The Longer I Live A Sterek Fan Fiction
by Kidscomix
Summary: In an alternative Teen Wolf universe, closeted 16 year old Stiles Argent feels like an outsider in his school and is overshadowed by his older, popular sister Allison. That all changes when he meets the mysterious Derek Hale with ties to Native American supernatural folkore. As the two grow closer, an evil menace threatens the town led by the Alpha Scott McCall and his pack.
1. Chapter 1

Beacon Hills, California lies in the northern rural valley of the state of Beacon County, approximately sixty miles south of Redwood and eighty miles east of the San Francisco peninsula. Established around the early 1800's, the quaint little town had an economic boom from its coal mining industry and lumber mills increasing its population over the years with steady profits. In addition, the historical value of the location and its natural wonder has helped the tourism trade with guests coming in droves to camp, visit historic landmarks, and enjoy the quite town atmosphere.

Sixteen year old Stiles Argent grabbed the algebra textbook from his locker slipping it into his backpack while raking a hand through his buzz cut brown hair. He listened to the ruckus of teenagers coming down the hall. His sister Allison, older by one year, giggled parading past the leering gazes of hormonally charged males in her path. Dark, curly hair cascaded down her back covering the Beacon Hills insignia of the cheerleading uniform that she wore as she crossed over to her younger sibling.

"Dad is going to be late from work," she informed him. "Mom wants to know if you can pick some milk and eggs from the grocery store."

Stiles sighed slamming his locker shut. "Why me? Can't you do it?"

Allison rolled her eyes. "I got cheerleading practice afterschool, dummy. Besides, you don't have anything going on." She blinked her eyes several times. "Please?"

The sixteen year old inhaled a breath. "Fine. I'll pick up a few things on my way home. Since Mom and Dad gave me the car, do you want me to pick you up after practice?"

"No," she shook her head. "Lydia is offering me a ride so that's not necessary."

Like clockwork, seventeen year Lydia Martin and her entourage marched their way down the corridor. Like Moses parting the Red Sea, her classmates divided as this queen bee commanded the attention of everyone around her. By the junior's side, lacrosse captain Jackson Whittemore shot an arrogant grin at his peers as he held Lydia's hand tight. Beacon Hills High sophomore goalie Danny Mahealani completed the trio walking parallel to Jackson while they approached Allison in the hallway.

"Hey!" Lydia smiled at her BFF. "Excited about this weekend's party?"

"What party?" Stiles blurted out.

Jackson shoved him toward the locker. "The one you're not invited to Stilinski!"

Stiles hated it when Jackson called him that. For one thing, it was stupid pet name for an insult. Second, it did not make any sense. The name Stilinski began in middle school because Stiles had difficulty sitting still in class. His teachers believed it was due to his ADHD but, unbeknownst to his instructors, there were other factors involved. With this constant restlessness in class, students began taunting him with the name Stilinksi which still stuck when he entered high school.

"Lay off my little brother, Jackson!" Allison shouted.

The dumb jock took the hint and backed away. Slipping the strap of his backpack over his shoulder, Stiles pressed his lips in annoyance and started down the hall.

"I'm going to be late for class," he muttered. Shuffling his Converses, he meandered toward the other side of the school. Squeaky footsteps caught his attention as he turned around to see Danny Mahealani following him. "What do YOU want?"

The Hawaiian teen grabbed the sixteen year's old wrist dragging him to a secluded corner near the stairs. Dark, brown eyes gazed at him tossing his duffel bag aside to the young athlete to look at Stiles's eyes without flinching. In return, the brown haired lad gave Danny his undivided attention. A painful lump formed in his throat attempting to find the words to express his emotions but realized with agonizing muteness that silence was the best answer.

"I want to apologize…" Danny started. His tone appeared to be sincere but Stiles had his doubts.

"For what?" The sophomore clucked. "For everything? Like having a great summer together and then you desert me to be with your hotshot, in-crowd friends? Allowing your steroid juicehead teammates to insult and humiliate me every day in school? How about the truth that you prefer co…"

Principal Lahey passed the two boys in mid-conversation as he came down the stairs. "Ah, Mr. Argent and Mr. Mahealani! Don't take too long with your private conversation or you'll both be late for class. I'm afraid I caught the tail end of your comment. Something about Mr. Mahealani preferring something?"

"Cockroaches!" Stiles raised his eyebrows. "Danny here has a thing for those little pieces of vermin. I suggested he try a career in entomology!"

"Well you can't fault the man for having an interest in the topic," noted Principal Lahey. He patted Danny on the back for support. "If entomology is a field you're interested in, I say go for it Mr. Mahealani! Now if you excuse me I have some paperwork to fill out." With that said, the high school principal disappeared around the corner leaving the two students alone.

"Stiles," Danny whispered. "I want you to know that this summer meant a lot to me. You're the only person I've told with my secret. You're the only friend I can confide in."

"You know I begin question this friendship," snorted Stiles. "Look I get it. It's high school and you're part of popular clique so you have to maintain the image of the ideal straight jock. But I really think you should consider who your real friends are because in the end that's all that matters. Plus, I don't like being used."

"That was never my intention," explained the Hawaiian teen. "Stiles, I never meant to use you."

"I wish I could believe that," the brown haired lad's eyes looked away. Sensing Danny's sorrow, he stroked the back of his palm against the lacrosse goalie's cheek. "It's funny. I think you look really handsome when you're sad."

Placing his hands on both sides of the brown haired man's face, Danny glanced at Stiles. Soft fingers caressed his cheeks as the teen tried to ignore the bewitching spell the lacrosse goalie had on him. Leaning in close, Stiles felt the hot breath of Danny's mouth near his lips as his fingers grazed the back of the jock's lithe, well-formed body and the arch of his spine. Gentle skin caressed his mouth as the sixteen year old started to close his eyes slowly submitting to the touch of the Hawaiian man's comfort.

Then the bell rang. Stiles opened his eyes wide withdrawing quickly from the athlete. He grabbed his backpack and began to bolt up the stairs.

"Stiles! I still care about you!" Danny called to him.

With his back turned, he shifted to face the jock. "Sounds like the beginnings of a heartfelt story, but I'm gonna pass. Unrequited love can be a bitch!"

Danny watched sadly as Stiles race up the steps and disappeared around the corner.

Way up in the evening sky, the full moon illuminated the celestial heavens. Shadows of night owls in flight and echoes of crickets chirping paled in comparison to the ghostly howls of wolves surrounding the atmosphere. A young woman wearing camping clothes ran through the dense thicket of the forest. She could hear them coming from behind her, stalking her, hunting her with bloodlust in their hearts. Her lungs expanded with oxygen as her hiking boots trailed through the mud tearing through the deep foliage as her hands displayed deep cuts where the sharp twigs lashed at her skin. Her eyes scanned the rural area to see an open field giving her no other choice but to run in that direction.

With her legs carrying her, the young woman ignored the cramping pain in her thighs. Dirt and dust kicked up where her heels touched the ground, racing with her heart pumping furiously in her chest. Then she made the mistake that all victims in horror movies do, she looked behind her shoulder. Large black fur, huge canine teeth, and menacing red eyes glared back at her causing her to scream but it was no use as the beast behind her gained momentum and leaped. The last thing she saw was the enormous wolf descended upon her as she cried out for help.

Fifteen minutes later, the other members of the pack scattered into the open field. Shifting in their human forms, the skin-walkers padded naked into the grass to see their Alpha leader enjoying his co-ed meal. Red eyes roared as his mouth dripped crimson from his victim's remnants.

"Baby, leave some for the rest of us," the blonde named Erica purred. "Share."

"He's right Scott," agreed the older gentleman next to her. "There's plenty to go around."

Scott McCall transformed into his human shape and moved to the side to allow the rest of his pack to feed which included his mother Melissa, her lover Peter Hale, his girlfriend Erica Reyes, and his best friend Boyd. Together the pack feasted on the corpse relishing in their feral nature.

"Exactly where are we now?" The African American Boyd asked.

Curiosity drifted through the group. The pack had been traveling for weeks killing and feasting on the locals until their shaman Peter had foretold of a great prophecy that needed to be fulfilled in this current town. The older gentleman bared his wolfish fangs as blood dripped from his lips.

"Beacon Hills," he growled. "This place has great power. We must be ready for next month's blood moon."

"Why next month's moon?" Melissa McCall inquired of her lover.

"It's time we release the Kalona," grinned the older wolf.

"The Raven-Mocker?" Scott asked. His eyes smiled wickedly. "I thought he was only a legend."

"There are truth in legends, Scott," informed Peter. "Even the existence of the skin-walkers is only believed by our people. The general world knows nothing about our kind."

"What happens when we release the Kalona?" Erica twirled a strand of her hair.

"Then we will be the most powerful pack out there," laughed Peter. "No one can stop us. Scott, as the Alpha of this pack, it is your duty to ensure our survival. Embrace your destiny son."

"I will," the werewolf howled proudly. "What must we do?"

"Blend in," advised the shaman. "Our immortality grants us the benefits of youth. You, Erica, and Boyd are young enough to pass as teenagers. Enroll at the local high school and recruit more to our pack. When the blood moon occurs next month, we shall be ready with the ritual to free Kalona."

"As Peter said," noted Boyd. "Then we will be the most powerful pack to rule over all our other rivals."

"I can see myself as queen," giggled Erica.

"Get in line sister!" Melissa hissed. "Now that we're done with all this governing business, let's not waste this precious meal that we have. We should take advantage of our fresh kill."

"Mom's right," smirked Scott. "As the Alpha, I order everyone to dig in!"

And they did.

Far off in the distance, green eyes examined the scene. Five skin-walkers consuming the poor body of a dead girl they hunted and killed. It nearly made him want to wretch. Derek Hale gritted his teeth as he fought the urge to avenge the poor woman's death. The skin-walkers had no right to take the life of an innocent. Such things were forbidden by law according to the spirit of the wolf but then again skin-walkers abide by no such rules. They preferred to live outside the boundaries of the laws. Therefore, they were expected to die and Derek Hale was going to be their Grim Reaper.

As an aningan, a hunter and protector, the wolf spirit readied his rifle to snipe at their Alpha. Locking and loading the gun in his hand, he inserted the silver bullet and put on his night vision goggles. Blurred thermal images appeared on his screen as he targeted the dark haired leader of the pack with his rifle. Wrapping his finger around the trigger, he waited until the crosshairs targeted Scott's forehead and counted to ten. Then he moved his finger.

Yet Derek hesitated. Releasing his finger from the trigger, he put the rifle down next to him. Something seemed wrong with this picture. The pack would not situate themselves into this town without just cause. He needed to know more. He would have to wait. Pressing his back against the boulder in frustration, he cursed to the moon goddess housed in the evening sky.

"Hanwi, give me strength," he sighed.


	2. Chapter 2

Soft sheets stroked Stiles's face. He remembered last night's dream. This time it did not involve the ever elusive Danny Mahealani but a handsome, muscular stranger with emerald, green eyes. Forcing himself not to open his own eyes, he ignored the morning light invading his room as he tried to go back to sleep. Pressing his cheeks against the gentle cotton of his pillow, his nose inhaled something wet and smelling of metallic iron.

Opening his hazel eyes wide, he saw his pillowcase drenched in scarlet while a continuous flow of crimson dropped from his nostrils. Glancing at his appearance in the dresser mirror, he saw his t-shirt soaked in red and panicked. Throwing the covers off, Stiles sprinted from his room down the hallway to the bathroom and locked the door. Locating the sink, he turned on the faucet and began dampening his face with water.

Washing the blood from his nose, the brown haired lad hoped it would clot. It did not. Splashing more water into his face, he grabbed a towel and pinched his nostrils together. Suddenly, a loud pounding vibrated through the bathroom door.

"Dammit!" Stiles griped.

"Stiles!" Allison shouted on the other side. "Hurry up in there! I need to use the bathroom. I have to be in school early to prepare for the pep rally today!"

"I'll be out in a minute, Allison!" Her younger sibling replied. "I'm on the throne. You don't want to come in here! The smell could kill you!"

"Liar!" His sister accused him. "I can hear the water splashing in the sink! Stiles, come on! I have to get to school really early!"

"I SAID I'LL BE OUT IN A MINUTE!" Stiles yelled.

It turned out to be longer than that. Out in the hall, the siblings' mother Victoria Argent came rushing in the middle of the argument. Short red hair and blue eyes cast a disapproving look at her two children bickering like kindergarteners as she stepped in to mediate.

"What is going on here?" Victoria asked.

"Mom, Stiles is in the bathroom and he's joking around," Allison clucked. "I have to get to school early and he's going to make me late."

"Allison, you can use our bathroom in the Master bedroom to get ready," the Argent matriarch offered.

Placing an affectionate peck on her cheek, Allison displayed her gratitude. "Thanks Mom."

Observing her daughter retire down the hall, Victoria Argent gripped the doorknob. "Stiles, fun and games are over. Open the door please."

"I'm dropping a deuce Mom," responded Stiles. "Can't."

"Victoria?"

The voice of concern came from the family patriarch. Beacon Hills Sherriff Chris Argent stood in front of his wife holding a large object in his hand. The brown haired, hazel eyed law enforcement officer clutched the bloody pillow case and exhibited it to his spouse.

"Oh my God!" The red headed woman gasped. She grabbed for the doorknob and turned. It was locked. "Stiles! Open the door now!"

No answer.

"Stiles, this is your father!" Sherriff Argent ordered. "Do as your mother says or I'm breaking the door down!"

A soft click of the door unlocking finally came. Quickly, Victoria pushed the door open to see her soaking wet with a bloody towel covering his nose.

She turned to her husband. "Call Dr. Deaton! It's getting worse!"

"Wait!" Stiles called to his father. "It's okay! I'm fine." He dropped the towel. "The bleeding stopped. See?"

Sherriff Argent paused for a moment unsure of what to do. It would be his wife who would have the final say.

"No, you're not fine," Victoria emphasized. "For all we know you have some nasal hemorrhaging. I'm not taking any chances. We're calling Dr. Deaton!"

The brown haired man grabbed his mother's shoulder. "Mom, please. I'm fine. It's one of the size effects of the medication to try to relieve the swelling. Even Dr. Deaton said so. I don't want anyone treating me like I'm some fragile figurine ready to break. I'm fine. I'm starting radiotherapy next month. Just let me have a few weeks as a normal teenager, please."

Victoria scowled as she tried fighting back the tears in her blue eyes. Embracing her son tight, she hated admitting the truth. Her child had a malignant brain tumor growing inside his head and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Stiles had been diagnosed with anaplastic astrocytoma during the summer after suffering a seizure at home. A CAT scan revealed that a rare tumor had been slowly developing in his brain over the last two years which accounted for the misdiagnosis of his ADHD behavior in middle school. The fact that their offspring could not concentrate in class, complained of persistent migraines, and had a sudden change in mental state appeared to have been overlooked by an oblivious school system that passed the sick student without any concern for his well-being.

His parents tried to hold back their rage as they respected their son's request to keep his illness a secret from his peers. High school was difficult enough for the social misfit but to be branded the cancer kid by his classmates would only bring undo sympathy and attention; something Stiles loathed about the popular cliques. Even his sister Allison agreed by supporting her little brother's right to keep his cancer a secret. The big revelation of his struggle would be on his own terms and she secretly admired him for that, though she would never admit it. Inwardly, she shed tears for younger sibling as she faced her friends by plastering a brave smile on her face.

"Are you sure you don't want me to call Dr. Deaton?" Stiles's mom pushed again referring to her son's specialist. "I don't want to take any chances."

"Mom, you promised that I would be the one to decide what's best for me," he pointed out.

"Our son's right, Victoria," Sheriff Argent agreed. "Stiles wants to be treated as normal. Let's respect that."

"Fine," said the Argent mother. She grabbed another fresh clean towel from the rack and wiped her son's wet face. "But no more hiding your symptoms or side effects. Anything weird happens like a nosebleed or severe headache, you let us know. Understand, young man?"

Stiles nodded. "Yes, mam."

"Good," his mother sighed. "Now get ready for school. I'm letting your sister take the car. I'll drive you to school myself before I have to show up at the boutique."

"Thanks Mom," replied the young man. Both parents left their son to his own devices as the door to the bathroom quietly shut behind them.

Standing in the hallway, Sherriff Argent stared at his wife with concern. "How do you know he's not going to go back on his word?"

Victoria grinned. "I know my son, Chris. You may be the breadwinner of this family which makes you the hunter but remember that it's the women who are the true leaders. Stiles is a teenager with secrets but every parent always learn the truth in time. Let me be the one to worry."

Bring his face closer to his spouse, Sheriff Argent kissed her with devotion. "You always know the right words to say."

She was right.

The halls of Beacon Hills High echoed with excitement as students filled the corridors discussing the upcoming lacrosse game next week with their rival school. Decked out in their cheerleading uniforms, Allison and Lydia began plastering the hallways with banners advertising the pep rally after lunch. Both girls giggled immaturely as they made fun of the cheerleading squad of the opposing high school.

"Can you believe their head cheerleader?" Allison joked. "Talk about skank-o-rama!"

Lydia tossed her hair and laughed. "I'm sure she fell prey to society's desire to turn insecure girls into emotionally neurotics who pull up their dresses for the first flattering remark."

Immediately, their hilarity resonated down the corridor. Apparently, it had not gone unnoticed as the main doors opened letting in a trio of new students inside. One in particular caught Allison's eye. Standing at 5'10, an attractive dark haired, dark brown eyed male strutted her way wearing a long sleeve pullover that clung to his well-structured swimmer's build physique and tight jeans. Next to him was a mean looking African American male and a sexy, exotic blonde who clung to him closely. Allison held a breath as he approached her.

"Excuse me, I was wondering if you tell me where the main office is?" The cute teen inquired.

Allison blushed as she managed to point a finger down the hall. "At the end of path to the left."

"Thanks," he smiled. He seemed intrigued. "I'm sorry. Our families just moved here." He extended his hand to her. "I'm Scott McCall."

"Allison. Allison Argent," replied the young woman nervously shaking his palm. The man was absolutely gorgeous.

"Hello Allison," Scott cooed. He turned to his companions. "These are my friends Boyd and Erica."

"What's good?" Boyd nodded.

Erica played with hair while staring daggers into the young teen. "Charmed but not really."

Suddenly, a flash of red hair jumped into the conversation. Not impressed by the trio, Lydia rolled her eyes. "Bored. Slipping into a coma." She pulled Allison back. "We still have more posters to put up." For some reason, it seemed that her best friend had been placed under a spell. "Earth to Allison, the Mars rover has landed and we still have to finish putting posters up."

"Oh right," Allison laughed nervously. She began to play with her dark hair as she addressed Scott. "Yeah, just take that left down there and you'll get to the office."

"Thanks," Scott smiled. "Hopefully, I'll see you around."

"Me too," she answered. Observing Scott and his friends vanish down the corridor, she felt Lydia elbowing her ribcage. "What?"

Pushing her lips together, Lydia teased her BFF with kissing sounds. "Sounds to me like you got eyes on the new hottie!"

Embarrassed, Allison slid a strand of dark hair behind her ear. "He's cute, that's just it. Besides, it looks like he has a girlfriend already. Do you see how territorial that Erica girl was towards him?"

"She seems like a bitch," Lydia bluntly stated. "There might be some trouble in that relationship. A good homewrecking might be in order." Sensing her best friend's concern, the red headed teenager reassured her. "Never frown, someone could be falling in love with your smile."

Allison secretly wished it was Scott McCall.

The path leading to the school office seemed to be like a maze. The skin-walking trio turned the corner as the Alpha heard his pack growl with impatience. He quickly took the reins of control.

Boyd could feel his sharp fangs coming through. "I'm hungry. I'm ready for a fresh kill."

"Let's start with that red headed bitch," Erica smirked breaking out her claws. "She annoys me. Besides, I'm having major P.M.S. and it'll give me an excuse to murder someone."

"Patience!" Scott snapped. "Retract your fangs and claws." His minions followed his orders. "There will be plenty of time for that later. For now, we act like high school students under our shaman Peter has prepared the ritual for next month's Blood Moon. I think we should start recruiting some new members for the pack. This Allison Argent sounds like a worthy member."

Boyd and Erica did not object as they reluctantly agreed. The trio finally made their way into the school office to check in for their class schedule. The skin-walkers were now official students of Beacon Hills High.


	3. Chapter 3

Derek pricked his ears listening carefully to the Beacon Hills sheriff's department investigate the murder site. Law enforcement became baffled by the case of the mutilated camper as they recovered the body and requested an autopsy report. Only the green eyed spirit wolf knew the truth. He was the only key witness. Staying hidden within the foliage of the forest, his heightened senses focused on the conversation.

"What do we have?" Sheriff Argent asked his coworkers.

"Female. Approximately twenty three. Brown hair." His deputy answered. "We found the victim's wallet nearby. No money was taken. Name on the I.D. says Pamela Greenfeld." The deputy handed the driver's license to Beacon Hills sheriff.

"Pretty girl," he commented.

"Can't tell by looking at her now," remarked the deputy. "The body was viciously mangled and mauled to death."

"Possible animal attack?" Sheriff Argent theorized.

"Could be," the deputy shrugged her shoulders. "However I don't know of any animal that could do such a thing."

"Notify Morell in forensics that we're sending her a cold one," he instructed. "I'd like to get a report in a couple hours."

"Already done," the deputy nodded her head.

"And try to keep this hushed out of the media," noted Sheriff Argent. "The last thing the mayor needs right now are reports that animal attacks scaring off potential tourist campers in the town."

"Got it," agreed the deputy.

Derek observed the Beacon Hill's officers disband. He certainly had his work cut out for him.

Back at school, Stiles tried to concentrate in American history but his mind drifted elsewhere. Part of the problem was that the brain tumor affected his ability to retain information which made it difficult to focus in class. He hated that the aspect of the cancer especially since he liked his teacher Adrian Harris. The part Native American and Irish instructor also taught Stile's art class which the sixteen year old enjoyed and excelled in. Mr. Harris shared a common rapport with the youngster who offered advice on improving his drawing techniques and inspired his love of art.

American history was also the class that both the sophomore and junior students shared. Stiles sat behind his sister Allison who practically ignored her little brother while she passed notes to her friends Lydia, Jackson, and Danny. Taking out his notebook, the brown haired teen began doodling a little cartoon on his sketchpad before something point bounced off his forehead.

"Hey Stilinski! Heads up!" Jackson whispered to him.

A paper airplane landed at the corner of his desk as he heard a giggle coming from Lydia's mouth next to him. Allison, who was seated next to her, grabbed the red headed girl's wrist hoping to calm her down. It was too late. Mr. Harris turned his back to focus on the group as he marched down the aisle to claim the air message delivery.

"Obviously, history seems a bit dull today that we've decided to pass notes for entertainment value," commented the instructor. Adjusting his eyeglasses, Mr. Harris unfolded the paper airplane as Stiles sank behind his desk. "Dear Stiles "Stilinksi" Argent. You're a loser."

Nervous laughter erupted from the class. The hazel eyed lad sadly looked to Danny who appeared helpless to defend him as Allison shot an angry gaze at Jackson.

"I SAID LEAVE MY LITTLE BROTHER ALONE JACKSON!" Allison shouted toward the jock.

"So Mr. Whittemore," responded Mr. Harris. "You obviously have a lot of time on your hands. I think your focus on history can be better spent in detention today afterschool." Jackson sneered at Stiles who shifted his face away. The Beacon Hills faculty member then addressed the class. "Now that you something to Facebook about, let's turn our focus back to history. Textbooks open to Chapter 20 please about the California gold rush."

Groans vibrated through the classroom as the students did as they were told. The sound of a knob turning and the creaking of an open door brought everyone's attention toward the corner of the classroom. A handsome dark haired man accompanied by two other students entered the classroom. Allison immediately blushed while Mr. Harris gulped nervously when the trio walked in.

"Mr. Harris?" Scott McCall greeted him. "We're your new students." He handed the teacher several slips.

The history instructor pushed his glasses back to his face and nodded. "Scott McCall, Erica Reyes, and Boyd…"

"Boyd. Just Boyd." The African American teenager corrected. Something in his tone meant he was serious. Adrian Harris did not challenge him.

"Well…uh Mr. Boyd," said the history teacher. "Why don't you three take a seat in the back next to Mr. Argent? I see that you got your textbooks already. We're on Chapter 20 studying the Gold Rush."

The trio grabbed a couple of desks in the back as Stiles noticed his sister Allison silently flirting with the new kid Scott. Rolling his eyes, the brown haired man attempted to focus on the chapter while Mr. Harris began his lecture.

Half an hour later, the bell rang leaving the class to depart to their next subject. Stiles was close to door before Mr. Harris flagged him down.

"Mr. Argent, can I see you for a second please?" He addressed him.

Stiles sighed as he turned his attention toward his teacher. "Yes, Mr. Harris."

The Beacon Hills instructor pulled a paper out of his drawer and handed it the young man. The sixteen year old recognized the document immediately. It was his essay report and on top of the paper was a big fat D. Stiles frowned.

"Stiles, I know you're better than this," remarked his teacher. "You were an A-student during the beginning of the semester and you've been slipping the last two months. Is something wrong?"

He lied. "No. Nothing. I promise I'll do better."

The last thing he wanted to discuss was his cancer and his upcoming radiation therapy next month. Sympathy was certainly not on the young man's list.

"That's not good enough," Mr. Harris explained. "I've calculated your last quizzes, test scores, and the papers you submitted. With the average marks you've received, you would only bring it up a C minus and by your standards Stiles, I would expected better from you."

"I'm sorry, ," the young man apologized. "Is there any way I could bring up that grade to at least B?"

"I thought about that," the Beacon Hills teacher informed him. "Here's what I propose. An extra credit history project that you could turn into me at the end of semester which can coincide with an art assignment for your elective class."

"That sounds intriguing," Stiles mentioned. "What would I have to do?"

"Since this current unit deals with the California gold rush, I though you could do an in depth study of Beacon Hills involvement concerning Native American land that was stripped from the local natives in order to mine the last few pieces of gold ore in this town."

"Interesting but the only problem is that there isn't any information about that in Beacon Hills," the brown haired teen explained. "Even the town historian denies Beacon Hills involvement in the removal of Native Americans from their land. Besides I don't know of any local reservations that I could research."

"On the contrary," the history teacher smiled. "I know of one in particular starting with me. I'm part Irish and Aeiwa. In fact, there is an Aeiwa reservation two and half miles just east of the town on the other side of Beacon Canyon."

"Wow! I didn't know that any local tribes still existed near the town!" Stiles exclaimed.

"We're a private tribe," replied Mr. Harris. "Not much is known about Aeiwa because we migrated and moved between other rival tribes like the Sioux, Lakota, Pawnee, and the Pueblos. With the constant intermarriage between groups, we became our own amalgamation finally making our way into the Algonquin people and settling what is now called Beacon Canyon. The founding families of the town prefer to keep us their dirty, little secret since they refuse to admit that their ancestors massacred and stripped away the land from my people. Ever since then, the Aeiwa have preferred to live in isolation away from the locals."

"Mr. Harris, are you asking me to interview the Aeiwa?" Stiles inquired still puzzled.

"That is exactly what I want you to do," answered the history teacher.

"But you said that the Aeiwa choose to stay away from the locals," said the young man. "Since I'm a resident living in the town, I don't think they'll welcome me into the reservation to interview their tribe?"

"No they won't," Mr. Harris bluntly admitted. "Unless you have a special invitation. I contacted our representative, Laura Hale, and as a favor to me is willing to let you on the reservation as her guest only if you were trustworthy. I vouched for you and assured her that you are."

"Um…thanks, I think?" Stiles raised his eyebrows. "What's with all the secrecy?"

"The Aeiwa are a proud people," his teacher commented. "Centuries of animosity toward the Beacon Hills families have soured their faith in trusting outsiders. This is why this project is good not only for you but for Aeiwa as well. It'll give them a chance to start socializing with the outside world."

"I guess I'm lucky then," Stiles smiled. "I get to be the first white man to step foot on Native American soil."

"You're not the first," laughed the history teacher. He pinched his skin in honor of his Caucasian features. "As you can see there have been others who were just as fortunate. For this assignment, I want you submit a report written about what you've learned about the Aeiwa and how their culture affected you. In addition, I want two art pieces done for your art elective. One will be a black and white charcoal drawing of an influential tribal member of the Aeiwa and the other is a small canvas painting of an important landscape taken from the reservation. Both projects are due at the end of the semester. Do you think you can handle that?"

The hazel eyed man nodded. Slipping on his backpack, he began to make his way out the door. "Mr. Harris, thanks again for the second chance."

"You're welcome, Stiles," the instructor replied. "Just don't let me down. Laura Hale will be expecting you after school. I'll e-mail you the directions. Don't be late."

"I won't."

With that said, Stiles hurried to his next class.

Back at the medical examiner's office, Dr. Morell charted the results of the corpse the Beacon Hills sheriff's office brought in. The African American woman jotted down a couple notes right as Sheriff Argent came stumbling in the coroner's room carrying a box of doughnuts and two cups of coffee.

"Powdered lemon. Your fave, Morell." The law enforcement officer grinned. Setting down the doughnuts on a vacant counter, he handed the forensics specialist her java cup.

"Thanks Chris," she smiled sipping the contents. "You sure brought in a doozy this time."

"What do you have for me?" He asked.

Shining a small flashlight on the corpse, she shared her findings. "Judging from the lacerations, it definitely appears to be an animal attack. Claw and teeth marks seems to match the description of a wild animal like maybe a wild dog, a mountain lion, a large bear, or even a wolf."

Sheriff Argent sipped his coffee. "So for you sure, you think it was a random animal attack like a shark attacking a surfer or an elephant attacking a zookeeper?"

"That was one possibility until I noticed the arm," Dr. Morell shared with him. "It nearly was bitten off by some feral creature until I match the teeth indention to a majority of local animals in our wilderness. None of them matched except for one kind."

"What kind?"

"Human."

The Beacon Hills officer's eyes widened. "You're saying a person did that? But how? Why?"

"Well a human did make a few wounds on different parts of the victim's limbs," she informed him. "The rest had to be caused by a wild animal by the way the flesh was torn out. Then there was the hair extracted from the body, possibly a combination of human and wolf. Whatever caused this murder enjoyed in torturing and killing their victims and had very little remorse."

"That's not much to go on," said the sheriff.

"It's all you have right now," remarked Dr. Morell. "Until I get more evidence, I'm sticking with the facts that I'm dealt with."

"I guess this case is going to stay open for a while," Sheriff Argent agreed.


	4. Chapter 4

Approximately three miles east of Beacon Canyon, a stretch of rural road stretches off the main highway. Spanning two hundred acres, the mountainous terrain of the Aeiwa Reservation can be easily overlooked by the ordinary driver if they forget to make a left turn on the first pointed rock shaped like a half moon. Stiles Argent drove his little Honda Civic down the hidden pathway leading up to the Native American residence. Following the directions sent to his e-mail by Adrian Harris, the sixteen year old found the oddly shaped boulder and explored the concealed winding road that had been kept secret from the town.

Coming to a beautiful lake, he noticed several tenement houses set up along with a few trailers situated near the water's edge. Copper and reddish skinned inhabitants, along with their children, darted back into their dwellings as they saw the strange vehicle driving past them. Stiles felt uncomfortable being the only stranger in town but reassured himself the importance of this school project. Setting his fears aside, his hazel eyes glanced at the rest of the Aeiwa within his view and became shocked at their appearances.

Dressed in traditional, outdated clothing, the Aeiwa lived simply. From his perspective, he could see the area where the tribe took advantage of the fertile farmland. There was no running water or electricity. Food was either harvested or hunted and fresh water had been extracted from the lake. It seemed that the Aeiwa were California's version of the Amish community. However that was not the most surprising thing he has witnessed. The biggest shock was seeing the various tribe members not looking Native American in appearance but exhibiting Asian, Latin, Anglo, and African features. Stiles squinted his eyes a few times to get a better view as he pulled the Honda Civic in front of a big, log cabin building with an electrical light bulb at the front.

A gray haired woman in her late fifties and wearing a traditional woven dress and silver jewelry greeted the young man as he got out of his car. Pulling out a notebook and pen, the brown haired lad nervously walked up to the older woman and extended his hand.

"Laura Hale?"

Green eyes perused the skinny teenager slowly before smiling. She gracefully accepted his hand. "I see that Adrian was right about you, Mr. Stiles Argent. Your aura exudes brilliance and compassion. He made the right choice in sending you to interview our people."

Stiles kicked the dirt shyly as he cast his eyes down. "I guess…yeah…um thanks."

She grabbed his hand and pulled him inside the cabin. "Come. You have much to learn." Stiles looked behind him to soak in the quiet atmosphere of the reservation. Slowly making his way up the steps, he crossed through the doorway.

"As you know, the Aeiwa live simple lives," Laura Hale explained. "We have no electricity, except for this cabin which runs on a generator, and no running water. We fetch fresh water from the lake and grow our own crops. This is the way it has been for years with my people."

Pulling on a metal chain, Stiles heard a click and the room brightened with light. His hazel eyes widened with excitement as he gazed around the room to see cultural folk art displayed across the walls and on the ceilings in the form of animal pelts, pottery, jewelry, and paintings. Crossing over to a coyote mask on the wall, his fingers slid down the pointed nose of the animal mask as the young man examined it intently.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Laura asked.

Stiles nodded. "It's amazing, so wonderfully detailed. What is it?"

"The Coyote Man." She informed him. "Our Creator. O-let-te. The one the Aeiwa honor and pray to." The older woman watched the young man intently as he admired the artwork. "Tell me Stiles, what did you think of our people when you drove in here?"

Putting down the mask gently on the table, the sixteen year old faced his hostess. "Um…interesting. I've never met or seen anyone who is part of one of the Native American tribes."

Laura folded her arms. "You're too polite Stiles. You're also wondering how a secretive tribe can have other people of various ethnicities included when they don't look anything like a stereotypical indian?"

Stiles blushed. "I didn't say…I'm not thinking that. Look I'm not part of some KKK group if you're wondering."

The older woman laughed. She waved her hands to calm him down. "Relax. I'm just pulling your leg. As you can see, I have green eyes and Caucasian skin so that throws out the whole notion of me appearing in a John Wayne film. Here's the truth, Stiles. Nowadays, no one is exactly of a single race. With human history recording various groups conquering and raping other cultures, it is only a matter of time before miscegenation takes place and every race becomes intermixed. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Wholeheartedly," Stiles replied stuffing his hands in his pocket. "My family is proof of that. My father's side is Irish, French, and German while my mother is English and Spanish. My sister inherited our grandmother's dark hair and exotic features while I inherited both my parents."

"Then you understand," answered Laura. "For the Aeiwa, it is the same. Before many of the Native American tribes were forced off their land, they joined with other tribes and intermarried before migrating to northern California and forming their own group. The Aeiwa are mixture of other tribes from the Lakota, the Sioux, Panwee, Pueblos, as well as many others. Soon other cultures began to marry into our tribe. It began first with the Europeans when they invaded America. Then there were…"

"The black slaves," added Stiles putting the historical facts together. "The white slave traders brought them over. Next it was the Chinese railroad workers and later the Mexican migrant laborers."

"Very good," the green eyed woman applauded. "You're catching on. All these cultural groups married into Aeiwa and we've became a family ever since."

"But why hide the reservation?" Stiles inquired. "The town historians of Beacon Hills even refused to acknowledge the existence of local Native American tribes."

The older woman sighed. "Ignorance, Stiles. Sad to say that the founding fathers of Beacon Hills did not want to admit the fact that they stole the land from the Native Americans and forced them to live in secluded areas. Obviously, our decades of animosity toward the Beacon Hills descendants have forced us to live as recluses, whom as you can see has been quite advantageous for us. No one bothers us and we don't bother them."

"By why now?" The sixteen year old probed. "Why make yourselves known after all this time?"

"To preserve our history," stated Laura. "We want the world to know of what the Aeiwa went through to make them the strong people we are today. It's time for everyone to start to know our story." She grinned at Stiles who rapidly jotted notes on his paper. "I know this may be hard to believe, Stiles, but not all of us live isolation forever. I, for one, ventured outside the reservation to get my Ph.D. in Humanities and Native American Linguistics."

"Wait," he raised his eyebrows. "You're a college professor?"

"For a few years," the older woman grinned. "But I moved back to be with the Aeiwa. The tribe needed me."

"Why not write an article or even a book about then?" The teenager made a valid point.

"I thought about it but I am a horrible procrastinator," remarked Laura. "Besides it would bias of me to write about a culture that I'm a part of. It's better if an outsider gave their viewpoint through a shared experience. Adrian chose you because he believed in your ability to be truthful and to broaden your mind."

Stiles blushed then shoved his hands down his pockets. "Um…thanks. I'm honored…I guess. So if you're no longer a college professor, then what is your new role here?"

"I'm the shamaness," she proudly stated. "The medicine woman."

"You mean like a doctor?"

"Something like that," Laura smiled. "However I do more than heal. I perform rituals and see to the safety of our people. More importantly, I help my brother out in protecting our tribe."

"How?"

"My brother serves as an aningan," she informed him. "A protector, a guardian, and a hunter. He ensures that the Aeiwa are always safeguarded. Here he comes now."

The roar of a car engine came from outside as Stiles turned toward the doorway to see a black jeep park next to his Honda Civic. Large boots stomped the dirt ground as his hazel eyes watched a tall, handsome muscular gentleman with dark hair and green eyes march toward him. Angry eyes stared at the teenager as the stranger turned to address Laura.

"Who the hell is this?" The man growled.

"Derek, this is Stiles Argent." Laura smiled. "He's going to save us."

The halls of Beacon Hills High seemed to be like a ghost town as Allison Argent began pulling off the posters afterschool advertising today's pep rally. Killing some time, she waited for Lydia who in turn waited for Jackson who had been serving his detention in Mr. Harris's classroom. Dragging the torn paper into the trash, she slammed into an imposing figure. She screamed.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," giggled Scott McCall.

Clutching her chest, Allison inhaled a breath. "It's okay. You just startled me. What are you doing here? Everyone left for the day."

"I was going to ask you the same question," smiled Scott.

"I have to clean up these posters," answered the dark haired beauty. "School rules. Whatever club puts them up must also take them down. What's your excuse?"

He displayed a charming smile. "I was hoping to ask the prettiest girl out this weekend."

Butterflies bounced inside her stomach. The cute new kid was asking her out! She could not believe it. Instead, she would play it cool.

"You're really cocky, aren't you?" Allison clucked.

"I prefer the word arrogant," the teen wolf grinned." Then again, you have to admire someone with self-confidence."

Intrigued by the young man, she folded her arms. "Aren't you with someone? This Erica person?"

Scott laughed tossing his head back in jest. "Erica and I are just friends. We've been friends for a very long time. There's nothing between us. She just comes off as overprotective."

"Not by the way she looks at you," the popular teen shook her head. "She looks like she's going to kill someone."

"That's just her good side," Scott laughed. "So how about it? Dinner and movie, this Saturday?"

"You're not going to let this go, are you?" Allison inquired getting sucked into the dark haired man's words.

"Nope."

"What if I told you that I only date jocks?" The young woman teased.

"Then I guess I'll have to join high school sports," the teen wolf agreed. "I hear lacrosse is popular here."

"It is," Allison responded. "And it's already full up with players. You would have to convince Coach Finstock to let you join this late in the game."

"That's a challenge I happily accept," commented Scott. "Care to wager?"

The dark haired beauty was going to call his bluff. "Okay. What are the outcomes?"

"If I make Captain of the lacrosse team," the young man began. "Then you agree to go out with me."

"And if you don't?"

"Then I'll put on one those ridiculous costumes and be your mascot," answered Scott.

"Deal!" Allison replied without hesitation. "Hope you can handle sweating in a costume?" She blew him a kiss as she disappeared down the corridor.

Now alone, the skin-walker heard his minion stomping from way across the other side of the hall. Boyd drew out his claws as he made a screeching scrape across the row of lockers that he passed by. Stopping in front of Scott, he bared his fangs sharing disturbing news with his Master.

"We have problem," Boyd growled.

"Well spill it out!" The Alpha ordered.

"One of the Aeiwa sent an outsider into their tribal reservation," explained Boyd.

"Any motive?"

"None as of yet," said the minion. "I'm still researching."

Scott gritted his teeth. Long claws clutched the skin-walker minion's neck as he raised Boyd off the ground and buried a small nail into the creature's skin. Small droplets of blood fell to the tile floor as the pack servant attempted to breath.

"DO NOT PISS ME OFF!" Scott growled. "FIND OUT THE AEIWA'S MOTIVE FOR BRINGING AN OUTSIDER INTO THEIR FOLD AND KILL THAT PERSON!"

He dropped Boyd to the ground who clutched his wounded neck. Scott turned his back on his pack member and walk down the hall.

"What are you going to do, Master?" Boyd called out to him.

"I'm going to make myself the new captain of the lacrosse team." Scott explained. "I'm replacing this Jackson Whittemore."

Shocked by his Master's response, he pleaded for a response. "Why?"

"To impress my new mate," howled Scott. "Allison Argent."


	5. Chapter 5

Stiles soaked in the aningan's appearance. Derek Hale was certainly handsome. Devilishly handsome. The slim fit, tight, V-neck white t-shirt that he wore showcased the perfect symmetry of his muscular chest displaying each square groove of pectoral curves. Small cuts of his six pack abdomen protruded from his shirt as the tall man flexed his amazing biceps to cross his arms. Striking an angry pose in the tight jeans that hugged his rock hard posterior, he cocked a disapproving dark eyebrow as he shot a brooding scowl at the teenager.

"Who granted you permission to enter this reservation?" Derek demanded.

Stiles nervously gulped an answer. "I…I was invited. My teacher made arrangements for a special project…"

"Derek!" Laura clucked. She slapped him hard across the shoulder. "Don't be rude. Stiles is our guest. Adrian asked permission to do a research assignment about our people and I authorized his presence here."

"Laura," Derek whispered loudly to the older woman's ear. "We have a rule about bringing strangers into the tribe. It's dangerous."

"Derek hush!" The older woman snapped. "Stiles poses no threat. He's a high school student. As I said before, he's here to save us! Now kindly step aside so I can show him around."

"Laura…" the green eyed man began to protest.

Suddenly it dawned on Stiles how he recognized Derek Hale. He was the man that appeared in his dream a few nights ago. Coincidence? The hazel eyed lad did not think so. Laura walked over to the teenager, took him by the hand, and led him back inside the cabin. Stiles turned his head to see an angry Derek staring daggers directly at him.

"I'll be watching you!" The aningan warned.

The brown haired man could only hope. Feeling himself pulled by the eager shamaness, the older woman led Stiles toward a group of animal masks on the wall of the cabin. At the center was the coyote mask meant to represent the Aeiwa's creator O-let-te while a fox mask with a sun painted on the forehead was placed at the top of the coyote. Drifting down, his hazel eyes caught the mask of a wolf with a moon painted on the forehead positioned underneath the creator. Instantly, the young man felt a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I told you about the Aeiwa's belief in our creator O-let-te," said Laura smiling. "Well there is more to the story."

"Is this folklore similar to Greek myths?" Stiles asked.

"Quite similar," the older woman agreed. "Just like other other cultures, there is a common belief in a grand Creator and their gods and goddesses. The ancient Greeks had their Olympian gods which influenced the Romans. The Vikings had their Valhalla and their Norse gods. Hinduism has their deities. Even Islam and Christianity had a belief in an omnipotent being like Allah or God. In every culture, there is some belief in a higher being. For the Aeiwa, it was the Coyote Man O-let-te."

"How does the story begin?" Stiles inquired with curiosity.

"Long ago, the universe was ruled by the great Creator, O-let-te, known as the Coyote Man. The Coyote Man grew lonely that there were no people on Earth to talk to so he took a feather from one of his children and created the first Native American tribes which later became the Aeiwa. To make sure the Aeiwa live harmoniously, he anointed two of his children, Wi and Hanwi, to oversee the people. Wi the Great Fox Spirit controlled the sun and ruled over the sky while his wife Hanwi, the Great Wolf Spirit, controlled the moon. Night and day worked together and the Aeiwa were happy."

"Night and day," noted the teenager. "Easy enough to remember. Two animal gods who controlled the sun and the moon."

"But there is more," Laura frowned. "Other animal spirits were jealous of the relationship that Wi and Hanwi had, particularly Kalona, the evil Ravenmocker Spirit, who ruled the underworld. Kalona tried to seduce Hanwi into leaving her husband but she refused so Kalona took her by force."

"He raped her?" Stiles gasped. "How horrible."

"Exactly," commented the green eyed woman. "However ancient myths and history are chocked full of violence toward women. Anyway, the violation forced Hanwi to bear demonic creatures known as the yee naaldlooshii or skin-walkers."

"Skin-walkers?" The hazel eyed lad wondered.

"Evil monsters whom are able to shift between human and feral creature," Laura answered. "These are the children of the Ravenmocker and they preyed on the human children of the Coyote Man." The shamaness then pointed to the raven mask to the side of the triad mask. "See this raven mask?" Stiles nodded. "This represents the Ravenmocker, Kalona. When Wi discovered that his wife had been defiled, he went to O-let-te asking for Kalona's punishment. The Coyote Man agreed and banished Kalona to the deepest pits of the underworld but the Ravenmocker still got his revenge."

"How?"

"His children with Hanwi, the skin-walkers." She inhaled. "They would avenge his disgrace by murdering all the children on Earth created by the Coyote Man. To stop the yee naaldlooshii, Wi and Hanwi created children of their own in the form of Wolf Spirits, guardians of the people and warriors against the skin-walkers. These Wolf Spirits could shift between human and wolf and were said to be blessed with immortality as they protected the Aeiwa for centuries."

"So I'm assuming this is where all those werewolf legends came from?" Stiles concluded. "Did Michael J. Fox ever buy the film rights?"

"No, I'm afraid he was too busy time traveling in a DeLorean," giggled Laura. The teenager raised his eyebrows in surprise. "What? Contrary to living on the reservation, I have seen a movie or two in college back in the day. I'm not that prehistoric!"

"And I thought modern conveniences would have you shunned from the community," smirked the young man. "I was expecting an all-out keg party pretty soon."

"I'm Aeiwa not Amish, my dear boy," laughed the older woman. "And for the record, I have attending Rumspringa back in my time. Those Amish sure know how to party! Just don't let my brother Derek know. He's too uptight for his own good."

"Oh Derek! I forgot!" Stiles slapped his forehead. The handsome man drifted into his thoughts. "He doesn't like me much."

"He doesn't like anyone period." Laura confessed. "Don't take it personally. Derek prefers his solitude and has never been personable. He takes pride being the aningan of his people so he's always very protective over us."

"Obviously, trust issues seems to be a recurring thing with your people," noted Stiles.

"Blame the years of animosity toward the American government, the Beacon Hills town elite, and resentment toward the white man for taking our land." The older woman commented. "It's hard to forgive and forget. Change doesn't happen overnight. That's why you're here."

"You called me the one to save you," said the teenager. "I'm just a high schooler doing a school project. What's that have to do with me?"

"Plenty," Laura smiled. "Your teacher Adrian Harris has connections to media outlets. You can say he's the Aeiwa's P. R. person. With the right information that he can use to send to these various resources, our tribe can finally be revealed. If an outsider wrote an amazing article about our people, then just maybe we can gradually come out to the world and be proud to share with everyone who we are. I'm sure you can understand that?"

"I…can relate," Stiles stammered. "About being proud of who you are and…about coming out to the world. It's scary in a way…I can definitely can understand that."

Laura touched his cheek and gave him a kind peck. "You'll know Stiles Argent when the time is right to reveal yourself. Be proud of who you are."

The hazel eyed teen blushed as Laura excused herself for a moment to gather something from a table. Returning to Stiles, she opened her palm to reveal a small silver charm pendant with crescent moon and a wolf carved at the center.

"Please accept this gift on behalf of the Aeiwa," she offered. Sliding the mall pendant through a leather cord, she tied it around the teenager's neck.

"It's beautiful. Thank you." Stiles smiled admiring the object. He inhaled a strange musk that reminded him of Old Spice and Stetson cologne. "That's interesting. Why does it emit a scent?"

"It's been dipped in special herbal flower that only grows from a special white oak ash tree," informed the older woman. "It's called aconite more commonly known as…"

"Wolfsbane," the young man answered. "Boy, you are really taking this werewolf thing seriously?"

"It's not the werewolves that you should be afraid of," Laura remarked. "They are part of the Spirit Wolves that protect the Aeiwa. It's the Skin-Walkers that we fear. Wear that pendant at all times, it'll protect you from the evil spirits."

"Oookay," the brown haired lad tossed his head. "Shouldn't I also have a wooden stake to kill vampires?"

"Vampires don't exist silly," Laura giggled. "Plus, I can never picture you as a nubile blonde cheerleader with a brooding bloodsucking boyfriend." Stiles raised his eyebrows again. "Oh what? I sneak in a portable battery television set to watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Sue me! Just don't tell Derek or he'll hide my devices like he did with my microwave. The man is such a hypocrite about technology especially when he drives a jeep!"

Half an hour later, Stiles left the cabin to return to his car. Glancing around the area, he started to notice the locals come out from their hiding places to observe him. Obviously, his presence on the reservation was starting to make a difference. Turning the key in the ignition, he started the car just as aggressive arm yanked him toward his open window.

Angry green eyes glared at him fiercely. Stiles lifted his eyes in fear of the man who latched on to his arm with incredible strength.

"Stiles, is it?" Derek Hale inquired. The hazel eyed teen could sense the threat in his voice. "I'm warning you. Do anything to hurt the Aeiwa and I'll hunt you down myself!"

A sharp migraine struck the young man's forehead. As he inhaled a moment for the pain to pass. The reminder of the tumor of his head angered him and the last thing he needed was to be bullied by the older gentleman. He felt Derek's hand slowly release from his arm.

"Are you okay?" The green eyed man asked sensing something wrong with the boy.

"No! I'm not okay!" Stiles shouted proving his mettle. "I deal with bullies from school! I'm under pressure to get my grades up so that's why I'm doing this special project! Not to mention that things in my life are a mess right now! I don't appreciate some backwoods Annie Get Your Gun telling me what to do especially when he wants to keep his tribe ignorant of the world around him!"

"It's aningan," Derek corrected. "It means protector."

"IT CAN BE ANIME FOR ALL I CARE!" Stiles shouted. "I'm doing this research project because your sister wants me to! I'm not one of the Aeiwa, Derek! You can't pose your influence on me! As far as I'm concerned, the hot guy can take that jeep and drive it straight to hell!"

Awkward tension existed between the two. Derek became intrigued by the brown haired lad with hazel eyes and a baby face. No one has ever stood up to him before. Quite frankly it shocked and interested him. He wanted to know more about this strange teenager who entered his tribe. Stiles, in turn, blushed as he started to lose himself into the emerald pools of the imposing man's eyes. Why did Derek Hale have to be so gorgeous? He cursed his beauty in silence as the young man slowly pulled the car in reverse.

"Did you just call me hot?" Derek asked as the Honda Civic moved away from him.

"Slip of the tongue!" Stiles called out. He shifted the gear in drive and pulled out. The young man had never been more embarrassed.

Derek Hale plastered a smirk on his face as watch the car disappear down the road. He had to admit that Stiles Argent's slip of tongue remarked made him laugh. He definitely wanted to explore the teen's tongue as well as his mouth and every part of his body. There would plenty of time for that later.

* * *

Evening drills seemed to be going well for the lacrosse team. Coach Finstock handed his prized Captain Jackson Whittemore the locker room keys giving him access to the personal gym. With the rest of his teammates heading out to their own homes, the junior athlete pumped a few weights before heading out to the shower. Alone to have the place to himself, he thought about texting Lydia to join him in some adult fun.

Loud crashes from the other side of the locker room startled him. Turning off the faucet, he wrapped a towel around his waist and headed out to investigate. Padding across the tile, he noticed the equipment door busted down as lacrosse sticks and security protectors were scattered everywhere. Twisting his mouth, he examined the torn helmet in his hands.

"What the hell?" He muttered.

"Hell is right!" A voice cackled.

Jackson turned to see a dark haired man smirking at him with glee. "Scott McCall? You're Scott, the new kid?"

"And your new lacrosse captain," laughed the Alpha. His dark eyes stared to glow red as he bared his fangs and exposed his claws.

Jackson Whiteemore screamed as the skin-walker pounced. Even in the isolated corner of the locker room, no one heard the anguished cries of the Beacon Hills jock. Instead, he made a fitting meal for the Alpha.


	6. Chapter 6

"Stiles! I need your opinion on something!"

The brown haired teen dug into his Captain Crunch breakfast as his mother Victoria came down the stairs with a stack of papers in her hand. Realizing that they were a series of photographic sheets, the lad peered over his bowl to stare at the fashion pictures placed in front of him on the table. Stiles's mother was the manager of a popular, trendy woman's boutique in downtown Beacon Hills and the young man knew she wanted fashion advice.

"I need your expert opinion," said Victoria. "The owner of the boutique wants to add a men's line in order to attract the teen males into the store so I'm asking which clothes would you possibly buy for yourself."

"Why don't you ask Allison?" Stiles asked munching on his cereal. "She's more into this?"

"She's not a guy," the red headed woman stated. "Plus, she's not gay…er gazing at trends so closely nowadays especially with her preoccupation with cheerleading."

Stiles raised an eyebrow at her elusive comment. "Did you say gay?"

Victoria frowned changing the subject. "No. I didn't. I said gazing."

He dropped is spoon. "Wait a minute, Mom. What are you implying?"

She shook her head. "I'm not implying anything. Unless…there's something you want to tell me? You know, Stiles, your father and I love you no matter what…"

"RVCA!"

"What?" Victoria shifted her head.

"RVCA," answered Stiles. "The brand in the photograph. It's popular among the skater and emo crowds for its simple letter printing and various t-shirt colors. Then again you can never go wrong with Volcom. For your beach casual group, O'Neill and Quicksilver is still popular so tell the owner to invest in ore tees, hoodies, and board shorts. Are we done now?"

"Thank you," she replied disappointed that he did not answer the latter part of her question. Gathering her photographs, Victoria tucked them into her briefcase. "Other than that, how are things with you?"

"Are we doing the whole parent bonding thing now?" Stiles rolled his eyes. "Cause I have to tell you that we don't need Dr. Phil."

"Note taken," his mother nodded. "As a mother, it's my job to worry Stiles. The cancer. How it is affecting you, your sister, your father, me. I'm the leader of this family dammit! It's my role!" Small tear fell from her blue eyes."

Stiles stood up hug her. "Mom, it's okay! I'm hanging in there! I'm taking the medication and it's helping until I start radiation therapy next month. You got nothing to worry about."

"I know," she sniffed. "I'm your mother. It's my job to worry."

"I promise you I'm doing fine," he reassured her. "In fact, I'm working on an afterschool project."

"Really?" Victoria inquired pouring a pot of coffee into her mug.

"Here's the truth, Mom," explained Stiles. "Due to my…uh…illness, my schoolwork in history suffered a little. My teacher offered me an alternative this semester by writing a research paper on one of the local Native American tribes and as a bonus he's integrated my projects in my art class."

"That's wonderful!" His mother smiled. "I didn't know Beacon Hills had a Native American tribe nearby."

"They're called the Aeiwa," he said. "It's a long story but the founding fathers of Beacon Hills refuse to acknowledge them due to some history of bad blood. Anyway, I met with their rep yesterday and she's been helping me with this assignment."

Victoria stroked her son's hair. "I'm happy that you've found yourself a purpose now. I'm sure you'll get an A for this project."

"I hope so," Stiles agreed. "By the way, where's Dad?"

"He got called in early for some case," the Argent matriarch informed him. "You know a sheriff's work is never done."

"Stiles, can I ride with you to school?' Allison asked entering the kitchen.

"I thought Lydia was going to pick you up?" Victoria asked.

"She was," said Allison. "But she's not answering her texts. I guess she's too busy making out with Jackson."

"And then some," Stiles snarked slurping his cereal bowl.

Victoria and Allison both shot him an annoyed look.

"What?" The hazel eyed man asked. "It's not like teen sex is anything new? You know you were thinking it."

"Okay, you two!" Victoria instructed. "Get to school or you'll be late."

The Honda Civic parked right in front of Beacon Hills High as Allison and Stiles observed the entire school gathered right in front of the entrance. Getting out of the car, Allison pulled one of her cheerleading cohorts aside to get the story.

"What happened?"

"It's Jackson! He was killed last night!" Her classmate replied.

"Oh my God! Lydia!" Allison gasped.

Rushing past the security guards, the dark haired beauty ran toward her father with her little brother trailing after. Sheriff Argent took down statements of both the coach and players while Allison ran to her distraught best friend whose eyes became red from weeping. The cheerleading embraced Lydia tight for comfort as the poor red headed teen soaked her uniform with her tears.

Yellow caution tape blocked the entry way of the locker room as Stiles managed to take a peek inside. Even from the corner of his eye he could see blood splattered like a Rorschach test across the walls. Suddenly he felt a tug on his arm as he turned to face his father who did not look happy to see him.

"Stiles! This is a crime scene! You can't be here!" Sheriff Argent reprimanded him. His blue eyes meant business but the hazel eyed teen's curiosity wanted more answers.

"What happened here?" Stiles asked.

"Your classmate Jackson Whittemore was attacked last night by a wild animal," his father explained. "It might be a mountain lion, a bear, or a…"

"Wolf?" Stiles could not believe where that response originated from. His gut instinct told him that it was a possibility.

"Yeah, maybe a wolf." His father stated. "My people are checking zoos if any animals escaped and getting the park rangers to scan the wilderness. Whatever attacked and killed Jackson might pose a threat to the town."

"Did anyone see anything?" The young man inquired.

"No, Coach Finstock gave Jackson private access to the gym and locker room," said the sheriff. "Everyone left last night so Jackson was all alone. We're still trying to figure out how the animal got inside the school."

"Have you checked…" Stiles started offering advice.

"Stiles! Let me and my people handle it!" His father ordered. "You just worry about school!"

"The sheriff is right," interrupted Principal Lahey. "Let the police handle this case. For now, we're going to continue school like everything is normal.

Unfortunately, everything was not.

* * *

Night owls hooted as crickets chirped in the dense wilderness. Gathering around the fire, the skin-walkers' shaman Peter danced naked around the embers drenched in the blood of the deer the pack just killed. By his side, his lover Melissa cackled wickedly consuming the flesh of their fresh kill while Boyd gnawed on the marrow and bone. Sitting back against a log, their Alpha Scott observed the maniacal dance and laughed as a furious Erica threw a sharp rock at his head. Feeling a trickle of blood slip down his forehead, the teen wolf growled as he glared at his lover.

"What's wrong with you?" He gritted his sharp teeth. "On your cycle?"

"Bastard!" Erica hissed. "I heard about your plans of replacing me with a new mate! I'll kill your little side piece to show you that I am worthy of you!"

Red eyes howled with fury as the Alpha grabbed the blonde skin-walker by the throat and raised her up to his face. Scott's face contorted to reveal the elongated feral snout, canine teeth, and unruly fur all round his body. Erica yelped as small tears dripped from her eyes.

"DO NOT CROSS ME!" Scott growled. "YOU'VE OUTLIVE YOUR USEFULNESS ERICA! I NO LONGER HAVE NEED FOR YOU!"

"Please…Master…I'm sorry for challenging you…" she begged. "I'm still useful…I can still bear you cubs…"

"Too little too late," shrieked Melissa devouring her meal. "It looks like my son has found another mate who isn't so barren."

"Scott…" Erica pleaded. "Don't…you have my heart…"

The Alpha grinned. "And I'll always have yours." Extracting his sharp claws, he plunged his hand into the skin-walker and ripped out her heart. Erica's mouth gurgled with blood before the leader tossed her aside like a ragdoll. Chewing into the beating organ, his grotesque mouth howled with delight as his pack celebrated sharing a small part of the blonde girl between each of them. "Consider that a divorce!"

Echoes of the skin-walkers vibrated through the forest as Derek secretly watched his enemies from high atop a ridge. His spirit wolf ears pricked up as he heard small pieces of the conversation. New mate. Blood Moon. Scott and his pack were plotting something dangerous and Derek needed to find out what it was.

* * *

_Stiles listened as he heard the trees around him sway back and forth like a metronome. High above the night sky, the full moon arose illuminating his path saw a figure up ahead. Darting to and fro across the heavy roots of a tree trunk centered in an open field, he followed the moving being as his bare feet felt soft grass underneath his feet._

_Coming closer, the moving shadow began to reveal itself. Golden yellow eyes glanced toward him surrounded by a soft, gray fur as a snout and row of small canine teeth whimpered assuring the teen that the creature meant him no harm. The gray wolf shook its head gesturing for the young man to follow to which the lad did and realized that the creature wanted him to look at the tree in front of him._

_An enormous, ivory bark laid in front of the hazel eyed man as his eyes moved toward the row of tangled branches sprouted with purple and yellow flowers. Small droplets of pollen and floral petals descended from the twigs leaving Stiles to pick up the fallen remnants to examine them. Inhaling the fresh scent of Old Spice and Stetson cologne, he realized what it was._

_"Wolfsbane," he remarked._

_His bare feet touched something jagged and sharp. Bending down, he picked up the shiny mineral in his hand leaving him to notice more of the same rock growing around the trees roots. Touching the uneven edge, he heard voices behind him causing him to turn around._

_A beautiful woman with copper skin and long, blueee, black hair and wearing a traditional Native American poncho pointed a finger at him. "Silver, growing from the sacred white oak ash tree! Remember it well!" With that, she disappeared._

_Stiles ran after the mysterious apparition. "Wait! I don't understand!"_

_The ghostly voice seemed to surround. "Remember. Have faith Stiles!"_

_"Who are you?" He shouted._

_"The wolf!" It replied._

_"Don't forget that you are the fox!"_

_"Fox? Wolf?" He remarked. "What does this all mean?"_

_"You'll know soon enough…"_

Stiles shot out of bed at three in the morning. Perspiring, he tried to remember the strange dream that he had. Unfortunately, it only came in bits and pieces. He meandered into the bathroom to wash his face and pondered for a moment. The dream seemed so real. Ignoring his analysis, he got back into bed and slept.

No more late night snacks before bedtime.


	7. Chapter 7

Jackson Whittemore's funeral took place several days later. Anyone who was anyone attended the service to pay their respects to the fallen town jock and to offer their condolences to Jackson's father Mr. Whittemore, the town's elite attorney. Also in attendance were the Argents who sat at the back of the church while several of the athlete's peers shared uplifting stories about the late junior. Stiles, in particular, laughed in silence acknowledging the real truth. None of his classmates liked the arrogant jock so it was a bit of contradiction that they said good things about him.

Realizing he was starting to doze off, his hazel eyes widened when he saw Danny Mahealani take to the podium. Danny looked so handsome in his black suit that Stiles kept picturing what they would be wearing at their senior prom. Noticing his son daydreaming, Sheriff Argent slapped his shoulder to bring him back to reality.

"Jackson Whittemore was both a friend and well admired classmate among his peers," Danny read off his speech. "As a philanthropist and good Samaritan, he often would go out of his way to help his fellow students."

"Liar!" Stiles coughed. All eyes turned toward the brown haired man who cleared his throat. "Sorry, I have a tickle in my throat since this morning."

He observed Danny who rolled his eyes. The Hawaiian teen continued. "Jackson will be remembered for his athletic abilities and for how much he loved his girlfriend Lydia Martin."

"WHHHHHY!" Lydia cried. With eyes dripping with mascara, the red headed teen buried her face into her handkerchief. Tossing her hands up in the air, she was hysterical. "TAKE ME! WHY COULDN'T IT BE ME! OH LORD!" Allison rushed to her side to hold the sobbing girl.

Danny finally closed off his speech. "And Jackson will certainly be missed." As he got off the stage, the next speaker recycled the same eulogy as did several others who followed right after. Stiles groaned in his bench as he managed to sit through every single celebratory dedication to the late jock.

Once outside, the young man found a vacant shade near a tree as a small pinch of a migraine throbbed across his forehead. Taking out his medication, he popped a pill the moment Danny came up behind him.

"Headache?" The Hawaiian teen asked. Stiles felt his knees buckling.

"Yeah, just had to pop an aspirin," The hazel eyed lad replied.

"You know that was really low of you to make a remark about Jackson," Danny pointed out. "Especially since he died."

"Well he wasn't exactly my favorite person," Stiles responded with brutal honesty. "If you recall, he was my high school tormentor."

"I admit that Jackson can be ass sometimes," Danny sighed. "But he had some good traits. You just never saw them. I was hoping we all could be friends."

"When pigs fly," snorted the brown haired teen. "Face it, Danny. That never was going to happen. I'm the high school dork and you're part of the popular in-crowd. Like oil and water, we don't mix. I doubt that Jackson would accept you as his buddy if he ever found out about us."

Danny leaned forward to cover his mouth. "Shhh. Quiet. Someone might hear us."

Stiles ripped the athlete's hand away from his lips. "See this is what I'm talking about. You're embarrassed to be seen with me and not only that you won't admit to yourself exactly what you are."

"Don't get all high and mighty on me Stiles Argent!" Danny gritted. "I don't see you raising the rainbow flag anytime soon in this town. Have you told your family yet?"

"Have you?"

Both boys glanced at each other with the realization of the truth. Both were at a stalemate.

"Look this is not the place to discuss this," Stiles advised. "Let's agree that we keep to our own kind. You with the popular crowd and me…"

"As the nonconforming isolationist," the Hawaiian teen answered. The lacrosse goalie inhaled a breath. "Look if you were ever jealous of my friendship with Jackson, don't be. He's straight."

"Jealous?" The teenager clucked. "Aren't we a little full of ourselves?"

"Come off it, Stiles," commented Danny. "I knew you were little hurt that I stopped seeing you after we hooked up during the summer."

"We made out a few times," corrected the hazel eyed lad. "That doesn't count as a hook-up."

"Then what you do call it then?"

"Experimentation," Stiles answered. "We both were curious and acted on our impulses. That was it. Let's not make any more out of the situation."

Raking a hand through his dark hair, Danny shook his head. "Well it was real to me. Oh for the record, I was never attracted to Jackson. He's not my type."

"Then what is your type?"

"You are."

Caressing the brown haired teen's face with his hand, Danny lifted his chin to face him. Leaning in close, Stiles could feel the Hawaiian's warm breath on his lips as his mouth invited him in for a kiss. Slowly, their bodies gravitated toward one another until…

"Stiles!"

The hazel eyed teen opened his eyes as he broke away from the lacrosse goalie. Answering his father's request, Stiles sprinted from behind the tree toward his family. Meeting his son, Sheriff Argent tossed his car keys to the young man.

"Stiles, can you drive your mother and sister home?" Sheriff Argent asked. "I just call about another body found in the woods. One of my deputies is stopping by to pick me up."

"Sure Dad," said Stiles.

The young man's eyes focused on Danny as he watched the high school jock staring back at him with sadness. Part of him wanted to run after the lacrosse goalie while the other half told him to let the Hawaiian teen go. He listened to his second half.

* * *

Six o'clock in the evening rolled by. Over the horizon, the sun went down leaving a beautiful night sky above with sparkling constellations and a three quarter moon. Stiles was granted permission from his mother to stay little longer at the Aeiwa reservation so he could sketch a landscape for his art assignment. Upon the suggestion of Laura Hale, the brown haired teen drove down to the open area known as Grangers Range where he could get a full view of the night sky, mountains, trees, and open fields.

Placing his art supplies next to him, he took out his sketchpad and began forming charcoal outlines of the landscape. Detailing ever important shadow and jagged cliff, he began to press into the pad before a sharp pain fell across his forehead. The heavy migraine returned. Taking out his bottle of pills, he unscrewed the cap and popped a few in his mouth before swallowing the contents. Slowly the pain subsided allowing him to breathe as he pressed his hand to the shirt to feel the indentation of the silver pendant underneath.

Setting the sketchpad down, he heard a rustle behind him. Slowly he got up as he turned around to face a pair of red eyes growling from the shadows of the foliage. Nervous sweat dripped down his forehead as he swallowed a frightened gulp and began to back away. The growl got louder the moment he began walking across the field. He looked behind his shoulder one more time before the thing leaped out of the bushes. Screaming in fear, he ran.

It took only a second to remember what the creature looked like. How could he not forget it? From the pointed snout, blood red eyes, and sharp teeth, the memory of the monster's appearance would forever be burned into his memory. Long brown fur covered the creature's body that reminded Stiles of a grotesque wolf but at this moment he wanted to forget about the killing machine that was chasing after him.

Shooting another glance over his shoulder, Stiles saw the thing rear behind its hind legs then lunge full force at him. Tripping over his own feet, Stiles landed in the dirt as he covered his face to see the monster descending top of him. Once again Stiles screamed in horror as the creature came down before howling in agony as it rolled a few feet away from teenager bearing a burned mark on its skin. Standing on its two legs as a human would, it bore its fangs and claws as it growled at him. Stiles immediately recognized what the monster was.

"Skin-walker," he muttered.

"YES!" The monster spoke. Shocked that it was able to communicate, Stiles ignored this fact and became more concerned about getting up off the ground. "YOUR CHARM WON'T PROTECT YOU FOR LONG?"

Stiles looked down in reference to small silver pendant that he wore. Of course, the necklace was his protection. He grabbed it from his shirt, clutched it in his hand, and flashed it toward the skin-walker.

"Stay away from me!" He yelled.

"The monster roared. "NOT UNTIL YOU'RE DEAD!"

Once again it pounced as it screamed in agony as the charm burned the monster's skin. However, the creature's sole purpose was to kill the boy and managed to fight through the pain. A large clawed foot pushed heavily on Stiles's chest sending him flying backwards against the ground. His head struck a rock nearby as blood poured from his wound. Feeling lightheaded, the brown haired man felt himself going in and out of consciousness.

Groggy eyes watched the monster fast approaching. It sprinted closer and closer. Then out of the blue a gray and white animal lunged at the skin-walker's neck embedding its teeth tearing into the flesh of the creature. In his woozy state, Stiles attempted to focus in order to get a better view of the battle. Making out the image of a large wolf, the teen watched helplessly as the skin-walker struggled against his attacker.

Suddenly, the image shifted this time to a naked, humanoid form except for the wolfish features and sprouts of gray and white fur. The skin-walker whimpered in defeat as he witnessed in horror his demise at the hands of the wolfman. Golden eyes filled with rage as the humanoid monster protruded its long sharp claws and buried its razor talons into the skin-walker's chest. Ripping out the beating heart of the creature, the wolfman raised the moving organ to the sky as it howled at the moon.

Stiles observed the lifeless skin-walker collapsed to the ground. Blood poured from wound as the monster slowly began transforming into a human being. Once fully shifted, he recognized the creature that attacked him.

"Boyd?" He whispered.

Stiles was right. The new African American student named Boyd was a skin-walker. His hazel eyes then darted to the wolfman that killed his foe as his line of vision blurred and the image slowly changed before him. The humanoid wolf's fur began to dissipate forming a pair of hairy legs, naked hairy legs. Shifting his head up, he saw the muscular body of a gorgeous man with green eyes staring down at him.

"Derek Hale?" The teen managed to say before passing out.

* * *

The feeling of a wet cloth across his forehead forced the brown haired lad to gradually open his eyes. Staring around the room, he saw various Native American artifacts surrounding him. He was in Laura Hale's cabin. His hazel eyes turned toward the side of the bed as the older woman dipped the scarlet soaked cloth in water and rubbed his temple.

"Laura?" Stiles addressed her.

"Shhh," the older woman whispered. "Rest Stiles. Derek healed your head wound but not your fears. I'm sure you have plenty of questions."

The skin-walker! The wolfman! They were real! Stiles shot up from the bed with fear in his eyes.

"Holy crap!" Stiles shouted. "I wasn't dreaming! Those things! They're…"

"One was a skin-walker."

Derek entered wearing tight jeans and t-shirt. The teen had to admit it. He cleaned up well.

"He's dead," reassured the green eyed man.

"And the wolfman?" The brown haired lad then became aware of the truth. "Oh my God! It's you!"

"Guilty," smirked the aningan. "Though I prefer being called werewolf or lycanthrope. Better yet, refer to me by my true name."

Stiles knew the answer. "Spirit Wolf."


	8. Chapter 8

"Spirit Wolf or raging maneating beast!" Stiles spat. He flipped his legs over the side of the bed. "Just stay the hell away from me!"

"Stiles, I know you're in shock but let us explain," pleaded Laura. "The town is in danger."

"In danger?" Stiles cocked an eyebrow. "It seems that I'm in danger of being eaten by werewolves and they're standing in front of me!"

Laura raised her hands and offered him comfort to both sides of his shoulders. "Please listen. No one will harm you, I promise. All that I ask is that you here us out."

Hazel eyes lifted toward the woman's face that exuded a presence of kindness and sympathy. He could not explain the feeling but he felt safe. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he folded his hands and heard what the two wanted to say.

"Thank you Stiles," replied the older woman putting a hand to her heart. "It's very brave of you especially under the circumstances. All I ask is that you keep an open mind."

"I'm listening," said the brown haired lad. Still his mind remained skeptical.

"Remember when I told you of the Aeiwa's myth of the great Creator the Coyote Man?" She repeated. "Well there is some truth to these myths. Like other cultures, we worship deities that represent the sun and the moon. As you know the sun god Wi and the moon goddess Hanwi took on animal spirit shapes to which our people honor them with artwork and sculptures dedicated to their animal forms. Wi is representative of the fox and Hanwi is of the wolf."

"And Kalona is the Ravenmocker," commented Stiles. "Yeah, I got all that."

"If you recall," Laura continued. "I mentioned the violation of Hanwi at the hands of Kalona which forced her to bear the monsters known as skin-walkers. In turn, Hanwii and her husband Wi had children of their own. Spirit wolves called aningans who would serve as guardians and protect humanity from the skin-walkers."

Stiles turned his attention to Derek. "So you're related to a sun god and moon goddess?"

Derek smiled. "They were my grandparents. Being an aningan meant a great responsibility to my family. It was our job to ensure that the yee naald looshii, or skin-walkers, did not spread their disease to the children of the great Creator."

The hazel eyed lad raised his eyebrows. "Grandparents? But according to the story, the gods existed during the beginning of time. That would mean…"

"That I'm thousands and thousands of years old," grinned the green eyed man. "Yes, Stiles I'm immortal. It's part of my legacy of being a spirit wolf."

"And if you're his sister?" Stiles focused on Laura. "Then you're immortal too! No offense but you're close to pulling a Driving Miss Daisy look."

Laura laughed. "Since we're being honest, Stiles. I'm not really Derek's sister. I'm his daughter?"

"WHAT?" The brown haired teen gasped. "But…but…"

"It's true Stiles," Derek explained. "Laura is my daughter and part human which accounts for her aging. When a spirit wolf reaches full maturity, they choose the age they wish to accept their immortality. I was twenty eight at the time when I felt ready to bear the responsibility. Being a spirit wolf also means a lonely existence. That is why we seek human companionship. Laura's mother was my mate before she passed away and Laura has since taken over the responsibility of overseeing the Aeiwa tribe."

"Sadly, spirit wolves who bear children with humans do not inherit their parent's immortality," she added. "We die of old age like everyone else."

"I'm sorry," Stiles responded sadly.

"Don't be," smiled the older woman. "Immortality is more of curse. It's difficult to watch love ones die while you live on forever."

"Exactly," frowned Derek. "It's the role all spirit wolves are made to bear."

Stiles began to change to the subject. "So as a spirit wolf, do you transform into a werewolf under a full moon?"

Derek laughed at the suggestion. "Okay, let me explain the reality compared to the stories and movies you watched about lycanthropy. Spirit wolves are pure wolves. We have three phases. The first phase is human. The second is a hybrid form where we are both man and wolf combined. The final is pure wolf. You saw it when that skin-walker attacked you."

"Oh my God! Boyd!" Stiles exclaimed. He almost forgot about the beast that was about to tear his throat out.

"Boyd was his name?" Derek asked. "It's sad what the skin-walker pack did to him but death was better than the torment he was cursed with."

"What makes you any different than the skin-walkers?" Stiles asked. "You both can shift into monsters."

"Unlike skin-walkers, we don't prey on humans," answered the green eyed man. "It was the law laid down by Wi and Hanwi long ago. When skin-walkers began to walk the earth in order to avenge the Ravenmocker's banishment, they lost the ability of having three cycles. They have only two. Human and hybrid. In addition, skin-walkers are not immortal. In order to maintain their youth, they must feed on humans."

"Why humans? Isn't there some age defying cream they could buy instead?" The teenager joked.

Derek giggled. "Humans are the life force and energy that surround the earth. When the great Creator made them, they were to be his children that would hold great power over the world. Skin-walkers were jealous of this and wanted some of that energy for themselves and began feeding on them in order to steal the life force. Spirit wolves, like myself, were sent down to prevent that from happening."

"How does one become a skin-walker?" Stiles asked. "It's not like there's an adoption agency nearby or grocery store to shop for humans by the frozen foods section."

Laura laughed. "Just like those movies and books portray, skin-walkers reproduce by biting another. That is where all those werewolf myths come from. However there is process that the human must endure in order to complete the skin-walker transformation. Once they do, their good soul dies allowing the evil to settle in. At this point, they completely turn and they can no longer be reasoned with as humans."

Once again he shifted his face to Derek's. "Now I saw you and Boyd both transform but it wasn't under a full moon. Can spirit wolves and skin-walkers still turn even if there's no moon?"

"Absolutely," Derek explained. "The werewolf myths are false in that regard. Both skin-walkers and spirit wolves can change at will but since we're both children of the moon goddess Hanwi, we are strongest during a full moon. That is why during a battle, it is better if everyone stays clear of the fight."

Reaching into his shirt, Stiles pulled out the silver pendant and showed it to Laura. "You said this pendent would protect me. It did in some ways from Boyd. What exactly is it?"

"To answer that, I would have to go back to the folklore," suggested Laura. "As you know, once Wi discovered his wife Hanwi was defiled by Kalona, he went to the Coyote Man. The great Creator agreed and banished the Ravenmocker to the underworld allowing the skin-walkers to take their revenge upon the humans. Since the Coyote Man wanted to act as a mediator between Kalona and Wi, the great Creator grew a tall white, oak ask three which grew yellow and purple flowers that produced aconite. In addition the tree's roots surrounded the soil that housed a special mineral. Any materials gathered from the tree or minerals underneath the roots could be used as a weapon to kill any children of Wi and Kalona. Do you know what that is?"

Stiles nodded. "Silver and wolfsbane."

"Precisely," said the older woman. "Both can be used to kill a skin-walker or a spirit wolf so either side has tried to use this knowledge against each other for centuries. The pendant you wear is a mix of silver and wolfsbane which acts as a protective charm so the skin-walker could not reach you."

"But Derek came close to me and he wasn't harmed by it," the hazel eyed teen pointed out. "Why was that?"

"The charm only works on the person casting the spell," Derek jumped in. "Laura is a powerful shamaness and she made sure it had no effect on me. However it did its best with protecting you from that skin-walker Boyd."

"Yeah but he someone managed to fight the charm," noted Stiles. "That was a close call. How come you didn't use wolfsbane or silver to kill Boyd? I saw you rip out his heart."

Derek smirked. "Skin-walker minions who we refer to as Betas are easier to kill than their leaders, the Alphas. With the Alphas, we have to use wolfsbane and silver to finish the job."

"Plus skin-walkers and spirit wolves are supernatural," said Laura. "They heal faster from human weapons than from supernatural ones. It's better if an aningan faces them than an inexperienced hunter."

"Are you hunter too?" Stiles asked Laura. "I mean do you shift into a werewolf since you're Derek's daughter?"

The older woman smiled. "No I'm not strong enough to be a hunter. Instead, I act as my father's assistant helping to cast spells and protect the tribe. I do have the spirit wolf gene and can only transform into a small wolf on a full moon. Many of the Aeiwa are descendants of spirit wolves who possess the power to shift on a full moon. That's why..."

"You have to keep the reservation a secret from the world," Stiles finally understood. "You don't want everyone discovering that the Native American tribe nearby are werewolves."

"Exactly," commented Laura. "Not everyone in our tribe can shift on a full moon. Some have not inherited the spirit wolf gene but they honor Hanwi by letting their children who were given the power to be free to roam the forest during a full moon. It's perfectly innocent. We hunt only small animals like squirrels and rabbits. Never humans."

"You hunt squirrels?" Stiles twisted his lips.

"Of course," Laura giggled. "It's in our nature. Plus, those little bastards deserve it. They never want to share their acorns."

"And there is something else you need to know, Stiles," said Derek seriously. "One of our own is a traitor and I've been hunting him for decades. His name is Peter Hale."

"Peter Hale? Any relation to you two?" The brown hair teen remarked.

"He's my uncle," responded Derek. "He was once a spirit wolf like myself until he sold his soul to Kalona for power in order to become a skin-walker losing both his guardianship and ability to shift between three cycles. He's turned a mother and son into skin-walkers and together they have been terrorizing small towns from the east coast. I've tracked them for decades finally discovering their whereabouts here. The son has been anointed Alpha leader of the pack in Beacon Hills."

"Boyd was part of that pack, right?" Stiles wondered.

"Yes," said Derek. "However, I've been watching them waiting for the right time to strike and eliminate the threat. They're planning on expanding their pack in order for Peter to perform a ritual to free the Ravenmocker from his prison."

"What happens if Peter succeeds?" He asked.

"Then the skin-walkers are going to rise to power and be difficult to kill," informed Derek. "Humans are going to be an all you can eat buffet for them."

"Holy crap!" Stiles exclaimed.

"That is why I need your help," suggested the green eyed man. "The Alpha has disguised himself as a high school student at your school. The recent animal attacks are not coincidence. They are the work of a skin-walker."

"Jackson's death?" The hazel eyed lad muttered. "Who…who this student?"

"He goes by the name Scott McCall," replied Derek.

"The new student?" Stiles bit his lip. "Oh no!"

Suddenly this new revelation of supernatural creatures did not seem so appealing.


	9. Chapter 9

"If you read Chapter 25 of your textbooks, the Industrial Revolution made some innovations in technology from cotton picking to gas lighting…"

History teacher Adrian Harris began writing his notes on the chalkboard but Stiles was too distracted to copy them down as he stared behind Scott McCall. It had been a week after he discovered that the mysterious new student was a skin-walker and the brown haired lad kept himself constantly on his guard at all times. Those few days spent with the Aeiwa provided him an insight into the tribe and more about spirit wolves and their supernatural abilities.

Apparently, spirit wolves had more than the skills to shift between three phases. They also had the ability to heal humans. After Stiles was attacked by Boyd, Derek healed his head wound by licking away the bloody gash from his forehead. A spirit wolf's saliva had regenerative properties, a gift from the moon goddess Hanwi, and these guardian spirits use their talents to assist humans harmed by skin-walkers. Unfortunately, a spirit wolf's healing powers could not heal a human if their mortal wounds were fatal, if the person was dying, and they could not bring mortals back from the dead. Such things went against the laws of Death and guardian spirits respected the rules of the underworld. Inwardly, Stiles wished there was a way to reverse that ruling so that the aningan could heal his cancer but even that was a pipe dream.

In addition to discovering the guardian spirit's talent for healing, Stiles learned that skin-walkers were also barren. Unlike spirit wolves who could breed children with humans, the yee naaldlooshii were made infertile by the great Creator to prevent these monstrosities from reproducing and spreading their vermin. However in their arrogance, the skin-walkers still believed they could breed even though they had to make new servants to join their pack. Similar to a mythical werewolf bite, victims of these creatures went through series of symptoms before making the final transition into full blooded yee naaldlooshiis.

"Mr. Argent!"

The hazel eyed man woke up from his daydream. "I'm up!"

"Can you explain one innovation of the Industrial Revolution?" Mr. Harris asked.

"Um…the Girls Gone Wild video series?" He joked.

The class erupted into laughter to which the history teacher appeared not amused.

"Not quite, Mr. Argent." Mr. Harris frowned. "Please see me after class."

The bell rang as students shuffled to their next class. Stiles grabbed his backpack as he walked up to Mr. Harris's desk.

"You wanted to see me?" He asked.

The history teacher pushed his glasses back, opened a drawer in his desk, and pulled out a sheet of paper to hand it to the teen. Stiles glanced at the sheet and saw a B on top of his pop quiz.

"A B!" He exclaimed. "I did better than I thought!"

Adrian Harris smiled. "You're definitely improving Stiles. However even with this project I've assigned you, this doesn't excuse you from doing the work in my class. Please read the chapters I assign."

"Will do," replied the young man.

"By the way, how is the history project coming along on the Aeiwa?" The history teacher inquired. "I hear from Laura that you learned some interesting facts about us."

"Like the full moon celebration?" Stiles turned his lip. "You wouldn't happen to be a part of that?"

The history teacher put a finger to his lips. "Like Laura, I too have the spirit wolf gene. My great grandmother was one so I inherited her ability to shift. Since we're being honest, I also know who the yee naaldlooshiis are."

"Then why aren't we doing anything about them?" The hazel eyed man demanded.

"Skin-walkers are dangerous Stiles," Adrian Harris pointed out. "Only an aningan has the ability to go up against them. Our job is to spy and report to Derek about our findings. You never want to face one alone. Skin-walkers don't believe in loyalty and as you can see, Erica is missing and Derek killed Boyd but you don't see the Alpha distraught over their disappearance."

"I got that," Stiles agreed. "Scott is acting like nothing has happened. It's like he's a completely cold person."

"Typical behavior of a skin-walker," noted the history teacher. "Now I don't want to keep you from your next class. Just be careful and stay safe Stiles. This knowledge of everything you know puts you in danger."

"I will," said the young man. He waved goodbye to his teacher and headed to his next subject.

* * *

The big lacrosse game took place the next week. Sheriff Argent had to work leaving Stiles and his mother to attend the event in support of their hometown team and to watch Allison cheer on the field. Even after a touch two weeks, Lydia Martin managed to get over her grief and join her squad as they performed a routine for the crowd of Beacon Hills High students. Slurping his Big Gulp soda, Stiles waved to his sister who responded with a thumbs up gesture as she returned to her fellow cheerleaders to watch the game.

"Look at you sister out there," said his mother. Victoria grinned with pride to her daughter rallying up school spirit for the crowd. "She gets her cheerleading skills from me. You know Stiles, I was head cheerleader back in my day when I met your father."

"Was he as big of geek as me?" Stiles teased. "You know the apple doesn't fall that far from tree."

"Oh hush," said Victoria. "He was an even bigger nerd. Glasses, pocket protector, braces. Eventually he grew into his looks and I fell in love with his good qualities. Don't worry you'll find a nice boy…I mean girl who is worthy of you."

The brown haired man cocked an eyebrow. "Did you say boy?"

"No I didn't," his mother lied. She pointed to the field. "Oh look here comes our hometown boys!"

The Beacon Hills crowd stood to praise their hometown heroes as the high school lacrosse team took to the field. Up from the announcement box, Principal Lahey got on the microphone to introduce his sports team.

"Now on the field, the Beacon Hills lacrosse team! The Timberwolves! Playing as number 11 is their captain! Scott McCall!"

"Scott!" Stiles gasped upon hearing the skin-walker's name mentioned. "He's captain? I thought Principal Lahey's son Issac was supposed to be lacrosse captain?"

"Co-captain," corrected Victoria. "I heard through his mother that Coach Finstock didn't think Issac was strong enough to lead the team after Jackson's death. Instead, he chose that new boy Scott to be captain. Apparently, he was impressed by his skills."

A sharp pain throbbed in his head. Stiles gritted his teeth as the migraine became heavy. Pulling out his meds, he popped a pill in his mouth.

Immediately, his mother sensed something wrong with her son. "Stiles? What's wrong? Is it the headaches again?"

The pain quickly subsided. Concern still washed over her face. The hazel eyed teen inhaled a breath before giving his mother reassurance that he was okay.

"I'm fine, Mom." Stiles panted. "It was nothing."

Victoria was still not convinced. "Do you want us to leave for the hospital?"

"No, it's okay." He protested.

"Are you sure?"

"Mom, don't worry. I'm fine." Stiles managed to smile.

The Argent matriarch slowly turned her head. She still did not believe her son but refused to press the matter any further. Lifting his head slowly, Stiles slurped his soda as he eyes turned to left to see a tall, dark figure watching from the shadows near the fence. Derek Hale stared at the teen nodding with his green eyes making his presence known.

"Mom, I'll be back in a minute," said Stiles.

"Where are you going?" Victoria inquired.

Stiles stood up. "Gotta drain the lizard. Shouldn't had have gotten that extra large Big Gulp of soda."

"Well don't take too long. You'll miss the first shot by our team." His mother commented.

"What's there to miss?' Stiles replied. "Ball goes into net. Team scores. Believe me, I won't be missing much."

The hazel eyed teen excused himself from the bleachers and made his way down to the fence to meet the aningan. Following the spirit wolf into the shadows behind the bleachers, Stiles faced the Aeiwa tribesman with annoyance of his unwelcomed presence.

"What are you doing here?" Stiles demanded.

"The skin-walker is here." Derek sneered. "As the aningan, it's my job to kill him."

"You're going to kill a teenage boy in front of hundred witnesses at a sporting event?" The brown haired teen clucked. "Gee, ya think that's not going to attract attention?"

"It'll be even worse if the skin-walker transforms and slaughters everyone here," answered the spirit wolf.

"Oh great! Stuck between a rock and hard place!" Stiles threw his hands up in the air. "I wonder how Batman handles these situations?"

"He usually beats up the bad guys and asks questions later," answered Derek.

"That's not helping," stated the hazel eyed teen.

Loud roars echoed from the crowd as the two turned to see Scott score the first goal of the game. The fact that the skin-walker's supernatural abilities provided him an unfair advantage on the field was completely lost on everyone in attendance. The Beacon Hills residence refused to acknowledge the mysterious burst of superhuman strength and agility the new lacrosse captain had when facing his opponents. They would rather believe steroids were involved than realize the existence of paranormal monsters in their everyday lives.

Both Stiles and Derek observed the gameplay unfold on the field. A ball was thrown in the air by the opposing team as Scott charged head first to capture the object with his lacrosse stick. One hulking player raced forward to which the Alpha knocked him into the air with ease forcing the poor student to land on the ground hard shattering his leg in four places. Scott ignored the ref's call as he shot the ball into the net scoring another point for Beacon Hills. The crowd cheered wildly.

"He's going to kill someone!" Stiles stated. "Do something!"

"I thought you didn't want me to kill him in front of everyone!" Derek snorted.

"Not if he's going to hurt someone!" The teen remarked.

"I'm going to have to wait until he's alone and the coast is clear," said the green eyed man.

"Meanwhile, we're going to have to prepare a eulogy for the opposing team." Stiles rolled his eyes.

An hour and half later, the score was 20 to 2 with the Beacon Hills High Timberwolves leading. As predicted, fifty percent of the players on the opposing side had to be wheeled out on a gurney due to fractures and broken bones inflicted by Scott. The Alpha sailed through the field with ease sending a few more players to the hospital while scoring two more points for the home team. The skin-walker worked the crowd into a frenzy as they cheered over the victory ignoring the fact that their new captain had just injured a few more players. It seemed the fans wanted blood and did not mind how they got it.

Coach Finstock gestured to Scott to pull him out of the game leaving Derek a chance to make his move. Stiles watched the aningan putting his hand inside his leather jacket.

"What are you doing?" Stiles asked.

"Getting ready to kill him." He responded. Displaying the silver dagger in his jacket pocket, he slowly made his move. "Now that he's benched, I'm going to attack him."

Suddenly a horn blew from the announcement box. Due to the opposing team losing many of their players due to injury, they forfeited the game allowing the Beacon Hills High Timberwolves to claim victory over the game at 22 to 2. The crowd went nuts. Scott was hoisted into the air by his fellow players as the fans came racing from the bleachers to congratulate their hometown hero. A small hit of red appeared in the Alpha's eyes as they carried him away.

"Damn!" Derek spat putting the dagger back into his pocket. "He's protected by everyone. I've missed my chance!"

"Wonderful," Stiles commented with sarcasm. "Now he's been martyred. This isn't good."

"You're telling me," the green eyed man gritted his teeth. "Don't worry. There will be other opportunities."

"I better be heading back," noted Stiles. "My mom must be worried."

"Stiles!" Derek called out to him as he began to walk away. A strange tension existed between the two. The spirit wolf wanted felt the urge to touch him but resisted. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," the teenager managed to say. For some reason, Stiles felt his heart sink. He could not understand why. Racing toward the bleachers, he found his mother staring at him annoyed.

"That was a long bathroom break," she raised her eyebrows.

"Sorry Mom," he apologized. "But when ya gotta go, ya gotta go!"

"An hour and half?" She interrogated. "Where were you really?"

"Okay you got me!" The hazel eyed teen shrugged. "You know Gina Marconi from my Spanish class? Well one thing led to other and we ended up making out behind the bleachers."

"You made out with a girl?" Victoria twisted her lip. "Why don't I believe that?"

"It could happen," stated Stiles. "By the way, where's Allison?"

His mother scanned the field. "Oh look there is…oh!"

Stiles shifted his gaze toward the location that surprised his mother. On the field in the middle of everyone was Allison Argent. Unfortunately, she was not alone. Connected to her lips was Beacon Hills newest hometown sports hero.

Scott McCall.

"Holy crap!"


	10. Chapter 10

"Allison, can I talk to you?"

Stiles knocked on his sister's door before entering. He did not feel comfortable about barging in especially with what he had to say.

With her feet propped up on her headboard, the dark haired beauty put down the teen magazine she had been reading to glance over at her younger sibling. Then she turned back to her article.

"Hey Big Sis, you look like…you're going to ignore me," her younger brother bit his lip.

"What do you want Stiles?" Allison clucked.

"I thought we could have a heart to heart," he suggested. "You know the kind the Brady Bunch kids had before they bad made for t.v. movies about runaway prostitutes or got involved with reality shows."

Allison sighed. "If this is about me borrowing the car for tonight, you can forget it. I already got Mom and Dad's permission to use it so tough luck pal!"

"No it's not about the car," he corrected. "It's your turn to use it tonight. Mom's not working tonight so I'm gonna borrow hers to do my school project tonight."

"You mean that reservation thing Mr. Harris assigned you?" She asked. "Personally, I would have taken the failing grade. I hate to give up my social life to spend it doing extra credit all year. Then again, you really don't have much of one so it's right up your alley."

Stiles clutched his heart. "Ouch! You really know how to kick a guy when he's down! Should we go for how long my brain turns to scrambled eggs once this tumor worsens? Oh Allison, have our parents add to my tombstone: His sarcasm was a truly a gift…"

The popular cheerleader frowned. "That is not what I meant! Dammit Stiles, your cancer is not funny to me at all! Don't you think that it kills me every day that I have to think about you dying any second? This might be hard to believe but you're my little brother and I love you." Tears started to form in her brown eyes. "Sure you're the one cracking jokes but your family is one who are truly suffering. We're the ones who have to accept it not by choice but because we don't want to believe that you'll be taken from us at any given moment! Think about that, Stiles!"

At that moment, the hazel eyed teen regretted his comment. Sitting on the edge of her bed, Stiles wiped away her sister's tears with the handkerchief in his pocket.

"Your mascara is smeared," he remarked. Dabbing the running lines, Allison managed to let out giggle between sobs.

"Thanks," she hugged him. "Man, I wasn't planning on getting emotional tonight."

"I'm sorry Oweeson," Stiles replied with his Elmer Fudd impression.

It got a smile out her. "You haven't call me that since you were three and you couldn't pronounce my name correctly."

"L's were a hard thing for me back then," he laughed. "I think I've grown out of my toddler pull-ups."

Allison reapplied her mascara in the mirror. "Wait until you're eighty and wearing diapers again."

"Yeah but that'll be you first," Stiles pointed out. "You're the older one."

"Only by one year," she emphasized. "By the way, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?"

"It's about the new kid Scott McCall," the brown haired teen mentioned. "I saw you kissing him during the lacrosse game a few nights ago."

"Oh that," Allison rolled her eyes. "He asked me out and I said yes."

"I don't think that's such a good idea," Stiles suggested. "I don't think he's the right person you want to start dating."

Shifting her face away from the mirror, she turned to her little brother in complete offense to his remark. "And why not? What's so wrong about Scott McCall?"

Shaking nervously, Stiles racked his brain for a quick answer. "Um…for starters, he's kind of weird looking. You know the arrogant dark eyes and dark hair. I don't think he's your type."

"You don't know my type," she snorted.

"Yeah I do," he pushed the issue. "Blue eyes, blond hair. Someone like Jackson Whittemore." She looked at him funny. "May he rest in peace."

"Scott's exotic, tall, dark and handsome." Allison smiled fixing her make-up. "Plus, he has the body to boot. Why wouldn't I go out with him?"

"He's just not right for you," Stiles stammered. "How about Danny Mahealani? He's tall, dark, handsome, exotic and has a great body. Oh and let's not forget he has great fashion sense. Both of you have that in common."

The popular teen twisted her lip. "Danny? You serious? Stiles! The poor boy is still hung up on you or haven't you noticed? Personally, I would love for you two to get together especially since you're both right for each other."

His hazel eyes widened. "Me and Danny? Puh…leeze. I mean if I was gay…which I'm not, I think I would do ten times better than Danny."

"Of course," Allison teased. "Only…if you were gay. Then again what would I know? Since I've known my little brother all his life and I'm waiting for the day for him to finally accept himself so he can be completely happy…"

"What does everyone keep mentioning that?" Stiles inquired annoyed.

"Your call Stiles," she grinned. "You know your family is always here to love and support you."

The brown haired lad quickly changed the subject. "So does that mean that you'll stop seeing Scott McCall?"

Allison clucked her tongue again. "Wait a minute! When did this conversation turn back to my dating Scott?"

"You do know that he is still with that Erica chick?" Stiles advised. "See right there. The man is unfaithful. I wouldn't see a cheating man as boyfriend material."

"Erica and Scott broke up months ago," said Allison. "He told me so and I believe in. Scott said that Erica is mentally unstable and took the break up hard. She's ran away from home and no one's seen her since. Haven't you noticed that she stopped attending class for several weeks?"

"Still I don't trust the guy," he commented.

"OMG! I know what you're doing!" She exclaimed. "Why didn't I see it before?"

"What? What I am doing?"

"You're taking on the Big Brother role!" She shouted. "With Dad working so much, you've taken it upon yourself to be the man of the household. You're screening my dates just as Dad would do!"

"No, I'm not!" Stiles protested. "I'm not Dad!"

"And all this time, I thought you were Mom's favorite," she shook her head. "I see now that the roles are reversing and you're turning into Dad!"

"I am not!" Stiles disagreed. "I'm just concerned about you dating Scott…"

"I appreciate your concern, Stiles," Allison answered. "But I'm a big girl who can make her own decisions. This overprotective thing you got going here won't stop me from seeing Scott. Now if you excuse me, I'm getting ready to pick up Lydia."

"Why are you picking up Lydia?" Stiles wondered.

"There's a party that Scott told us about tonight," his sister informed him. "It's a bonfire in the woods. We're meeting him and his friends there."

Nervous fear shook the hazel eyed young man. He began to depart from his sister's room before offering one last sound advice.

"Allison, please be careful."

She smiled back at her young brother. "I always am."

* * *

There was not a second to lose, Stiles parked his mother's Toyota Camry in front of the cabin on the Aeiwa Reservation. Setting the parking brake, the brown haired teen turned off the ignition and got out of the vehicle. Racking up the stairs toward the inside the cabin, he began shouting for his friends' names.

"Derek! Laura!"

No answer. Stiles checked the vacant rooms before heading outside toward the center of the village. Out in the distant, he saw a large fire burning and several of residents of the Aeiwa standing outside of the woods. He began sprinting toward their direction.

Coming close to the large group, Stiles could see that at least half the tribe were naked and wrapped in large, hand-woven, Native American coverings. Focusing toward the middle of the circle, he saw Laura and Derek also similarly outfitted addressing the crowd. Noticing Stiles in their presence, Laura beckoned for the teenager to come closer.

"Behold, fellow Aeiwa!" The shamaness. "Our savior! Stiles Argent!" She then turned to the boy. "You're fortunate tonight, Stiles." She pointed to the full moon above in the night sky. "For you see, those of us with the Spirit Wolf gene will be granted the ability to transform tonight. You get to bear witness to do this."

Normally, watching a miracle like this would have been awesome but the teenager had a lot on his plate tonight. His hazel eyes stared at Derek exhibiting a sorrowful tone.

"Derek! You have to help me please!" Stiles pleaded.

The Spirit Wolf brooded even more than usual but was going to offer his assistance. "What is it Stiles?"

"It's my sister, Allison," the hazel eyed man explained. "She and her friend are driving to some bonfire party in the woods nearby to meet the skin-walker Scott McCall."

"It's just as I feared," Derek gritted his teeth. "It appears Scott has chosen your sister as his new mate."

"New mate?" Stiles gasped. "But…but why?"

"Because he killed his old one," replied the green eyed man.

"Derek! You got to help her!" The brown haired teen begged. "She's my sister! She's in danger!"

Grabbing the young teen's face, large claws extracted pulling the sides of Stile's cheeks close so that he could get a better look at the Spirit Wolf's green eyes now glowing golden in the darkness. Electric heat attracted the two as the hazel eyed lad could feel the closeness of Derek's lips to his. Hot breath elicited a response that Stiles secretly wished to explore but hesitated for a bit. Instead, he drew his eyes into the Spirit Wolf's and listened to his voice.

"I promise, Stiles," Derek reassured him. "I will make sure she's safe."

Then with surprise, Stiles felt the press of Derek's soft lips against his forehead. Closing his eyes, the teenager inhaled a breath before opening them again to see a naked, running Derek Hale sprint across the field with superhuman speed. Next with a flash, his body shifted transforming into a large gray and white wolf as it disappeared into the woods. However, that was not the only magic that took place that night. Laura and the rest of Aeiwa blessed with the shifting gene raced naked across forest transforming into smaller wolves as they bounded into the woods honoring their heritage and legacy of the full moon.

Watching the wolves vanish into the brush, Stiles clasped his forehead in surprise. "Okay Mr. Coyote Man Creator Person, may you protect your children!


	11. Chapter 11

Dust clouds kicked up in the air while dirt, debris, and grass flew everywhere. Faster than lightning, the Spirit Wolf accelerated at superhuman speed racing through the dense forest knocking down branches, tearing through bushes, and leaping across fallen tree trunks as he raced toward his destination. Up above the constellations, the full moon shined bright providing an illuminated path for the supernatural creature whose mind began to wander elsewhere.

Even in the shell of his gray and white wolf form, Derek's human side still existed within the casing. His thoughts immediately centered on the hazel eyed, brown haired teen who was counting on him to rescue his sister. He thought of nothing else. Something in the young man's presence affected him in a strange way. He could not put a finger on it. Sure, he admitted he felt a strong attraction toward the boy but the connection was much deeper than mere appearances alone. The Spirit Wolf could not explain it. Derek Hale should not be having these feelings toward the lad for many reasons.

For one thing, Stiles Argent was too skinny for his taste. Would it kill the twinkie to eat a burger or two? Second, his jokingly sense of humor and biting wit annoyed him at times. The teen's sarcasm could be obnoxious and there have been times when he wanted to bash his head in just for being annoying. Third, the boy was illegal. Even if Derek submitted to his primal urges, his participation in the corruption of a minor might land him in prison for eight to twenty years. It would be difficult to explain his immortality while behind bars. Lastly, he needed to resist the male siren. Everything about Stiles intrigued him from his boyish, innocent good looks to the way he bit his lip when he got nervous. The lad was simply too enticing to resist. Damn him!

Shaking his wolf head, Derek dug his large paws into the dirt as he came across the edge of the cliff that overlooked the main road to the forest of Beacon Hills. Golden eyes enhanced his vision as he peered in close and recognized the Honda Civic that Stiles normally drove to the reservation. Pricking up his ears, his heightened auditory senses listened closely to the pair of females laughing inside the car. Instantly, he knew that the driver was Allison Argent, Stile's sister.

Tossing her head back against the driver's seat, Allison giggled in response to Lydia's comment about the cheerleaders of their rival school.

"Can you believe that their head cheerleader still thinks bell bottom jeans are still fashionable?" Lydia snorted. "Someone really needs to call the fashion police!"

"Or Joan Rivers," grinned Allison while turning down the road.

"Honey," the red headed teen attempted to do the comedienne's raspy impression. "It's good thing you're wearing those. It's a great place to fold them and hide your diet pills!"

"Screw the diet pills!" The dark haired beauty retorted. "Use them as ready-made barf bag for all bulimics out there!"

The girls broke out into fits of laughter. Allison wiped away the joyous tears from her eyes.

"I'm so glad you've decided to come along with me to this party, Lydia." She said. "I know it's been a hard few weeks with Jackson gone."

Lydia reapplied her lip liner with her compact. "I sooo needed this. I didn't want to grieve forever. Jackson would have wanted me to continue living."

"Good for you," Allison stated. "That's the spirit. Now let's party."

She turned the Honda Civic toward a secluded section of trees. Seeing a bright glow up ahead, the popular teen knew that she arrived at the right destination. Parking the car near large group of willow trees, Allison and Lydia got out and walked over to the center of the bonfire. Stacks of wooden crates and firewood were piled high for kindle as the flames rose even higher into the air. Looking around, both girls noticed no one in attendance.

"Strange," noted Allison. "Where is everyone?"

"We're early," replied Lydia. "Maybe they're on their way."

Loud growls echoed around them. The girls gasped as they encircled the area hoping to see what was stalking them around the brush.

"What was that?" Lydia asked in fear.

"I don't know," said Allison. "But we're not going to stick around here to find out what it was. Come on!"

They ran toward her car before a large, black, hairy creature leaped from the foliage and attacked. Both girls shrieked as the skin-walker targeted Lydia shoving her on to the ground and raked her cheek with the edge of its razor talons. Small droplets of blood stained the dirt as the red headed teen cried in a panic as the monster bared its canine tenth and prepared to rip out her throat.

"LEAVE HER ALONE!" Allison screamed. Grabbing a large rock, she chucked it toward the beast's head that shifted its red eyes and focused on her. Realizing her mistake, the teenager began to run as the skin-walker got off Lydia and raced after her.

Unfortunately, it was too late. The large beast pounced on the poor girl sending her flying to the ground hard. With the weight of the monster keeping her immobile, he raised a large claw toward her to which she drove her fist hard into its mouth. Punching at the beast, the monster snapped its jaws hard biting into her wrist drawing blood to which the young girl reached into her pocket and pulled out the small vial of mace. Spraying the liquid into the creature's red eyes, the skin-walker released its hold on her as it howled in pain at the burning sensation throbbing in its eyes.

With hesitation, Allison held down tight her bloody wrist as she raced toward Lydia who was shock. Pulling the wounded girl to her feet, they made another attempt toward the car. The monster howled again; this time it appeared in full rage as it hunched back and prepared to leap on the poor women with its hind legs. Anticipating the attack, the teenage girls shut their eyes and screamed. Nothing happened.

Slowly opening their eyes, they saw the dark beast wrestling a large, gray and wolf on the ground. Surrounding them were a pair of smaller wolves watching the fight happen from behind the nest of trees. Not wanting to see who wins, Allison pushed Lydia into the car and got in. Turning the ignition, she backed the Honda Civic all the way into the main road and sped off. Taking a quick glance in her review mirror, Allison watched the large, gray and white toss the black creature into the forest and followed it as it attempted to make its escape into the woods. All other wolves trailed after it as her Honda Civic drove away from the bonfire sight. Inhaling a breath, Allison's heart beat faster than normal but ignored it as she went in search of the nearest hospital.

* * *

Stiles raced into Beacon Hills Hospital with his mother Victoria sprinting after him. Finding the nearest nursing station, the hazel eyed teen flagged the night nurse for assistance.

"Hi, I'm Stiles Argent! I was told my sister Allison was admitted tonight?" He asked.

"Yes, Mr. Argent. Room 34 Left Wing on the third floor. Your father, Sheriff Argent, is there now." The nurse answered.

Stiles and his mother took the elevator up and found the Argent matriarch comforting his daughter as his family came bounding in. Victoria embraced her daughter who displayed her bandaged wrist.

"Allison, your Dad just called us!" Victoria exclaimed. She kissed her forehead as she held Allison tight. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"I'm fine, Mom." The dark haired beauty replied. "It was weird. Lydia and I were attending a bonfire in the woods when we were attacked by some wild animal."

"Was it a bear? A mountain lion?" Sheriff Argent interrogated her. "What was it Allison?"

"Chris! Stop!" Victoria snapped. "Can't you see our daughter is in shock? She's was almost killed tonight and the only thing you can think about is your damn job?"

Sheriff Argent sat down next to Allison the hospital bed. "I'm sorry, honey, for being insensitive. The mayor is on my ass about finding this wild animal and killing it. Even Jackson Whittemore's father is putting pressure on the department to hunt the thing that killed his son. I'm trying to prevent a wide spread panic in the town while still trying to maintain law and order."

"I know Daddy," said Allison hugging her father. "I can't really remember much. It was all a blur and it happened so fast. I just remember the animal being as large as a person with black hair and sharp teeth almost like a wolf."

"Then it's settled," Victoria stated. She turned to her husband. "You're looking for a black wolf."

"How do we know it's even a wolf?" Sheriff Argent asked.

"Our daughter said it was," the Argent matriarch stated. "And we should believe her. This wolf attacked our child and killed a boy. I say we find this black wolf, kill it and cut in half. Now who wants a cappuccino? I think the Starbucks downstairs is still open."

"Ahh, how is the patient tonight?"

Stiles glanced up to see the doctor enter the room. Immediately, his mouth dropped opened as he recognized the handsome, dark haired physician with green eyes wearing a lap coat, dress shirt and tie, and slacks. The man grinned at him.

"I'm Dr. Derek Hale," announced the Spirit Wolf. He checked Allison's chart. "I'm a new doctor here so bear with me if I don't get your name correctly. Allison Argent?"

"Yes," smiled the popular teenager.

"It says here that you were bitten by a wild animal?" Derek asked. "Do you recall what it was?"

"That's what we're all trying to determine," replied the teen. "Unfortunately, I didn't get a good look."

"Well let's see how bad the wound is," the green eyed man suggested. Removing the bandage, he examined the teeth marks that now started to clot where the dried blood was. After cleansing the wound, Derek applied a new bandage to Allison's wrist. "The damage isn't severe. It looks like the animal didn't hit any major vein. There will only be a small scar."

"Good," replied Allison.

"Oh and we'll have to give you a rabies shot," advised Derek. "It would be one shot for three days straight just to be on the safe side. We don't know if the animal carried any diseases."

"Three days of shots?" The dark haired beauty worried. "You make it sound like I'm a heroin addict?"

"It's for your own good," said Victoria. "Until we find this thing that did this to you and Lydia, we're not taking any chances."

"By the way, how is Lydia Martin?" Allison asked as Derek administered the vaccination to her.

"She's doing great!" The Spirit Wolf reassured her. "Luckily the cheek wound wasn't severe. Once again, a little scarring but nothing left threatening. She does though have to also get a rabies vaccination which she wasn't too keen on. She still in shock so I think it's better if a friend offered her some comfort at this time." He focused on Allison. "She's down the hall."

Allison took the hint and left the room leaving Victoria, Sheriff Argent, and Stiles alone for a discussion. The green eyed doctor pulled out medical file from underneath his arm containing Stile's name.

"Thank you Dr. Hale," said Sheriff Argent. "Allison and Lydia has been through a lot these past few weeks especially with the loss of one of their classmates."

"Actually, I had an ulterior motive for letting Allison visit her friend," said Derek. "Dr. Deaton got called away to Miami to assist in a brain surgery operation last minute and wanted me to help in the radiation treatment of your son Stiles."

Stiles's eyes widened. He began to protest. "I didn't…I mean no one was supposed to know…"

Derek put a hand to the teen's shoulder for comfort. "It's okay Stiles. I know all about your brain cancer. It's my job to make sure you're okay."

"I don't know if I feel comfortable having another doctor treat me," the hazel eyed teen whispered.

"With your permission, Mr. and Mrs. Argent," offered the green eyed man. "I would love to treat Stiles until Dr. Deaton returns."

"I think the decision is up to Stiles," noted Victoria. "Stiles, we want you get help but Dr. Hale seems like the right person to help you with your treatment. The decision is ultimately yours."

"I…I…" Stiles stuttered. He sighed. "Fine. I grant Dr. Hale here permission to treat me."

"Wonderful!" Derek smiled. "Now if would be all right with the parents, I would like to talk with your son alone for a few minutes?"

"Take all the time that you need," replied Victoria. Kissing Stiles on the cheek, her husband followed outside. "We're going to check on Lydia and so Stiles meet us at the Starbucks downstairs later. Okay?"

"Sure thing, Mom." The brown haired teen replied watching his family disappear down the hall. Shutting the hospital room behind him, the hazel eyed lad stared daggers into Derek Hale.

"What the hell do you think you were doing?" Stiles demanded.

"Being your doctor," teased the Spirit Wolf.

"What qualifies you to even be a doctor?" The teen asked frustrated. "Supernatural wolf transformation? I didn't know that was on any state board exam!"

Anger displayed on Derek's face. Extracting his claws, he gripped the young boy's shirt hard and pressed him against the wall. Golden eyes glazed over him in fury as canine teeth growled in front of the lad.

"Listen you little ungrateful bastard!" Derek hissed. "I just saved your sister as you asked. The least you can do is show a little gratitude and be truthful for once! I've known about your brain tumor ever since I first saved your life from Boyd. Laura and I found the bottle of meds in your pocket and put the clues together! So get off your high horse and show little appreciation for me helping you!"

Stiles nervously waved his hands in the air. "Okay! Okay! I'm sorry, Derek! I won't lie to you anymore! Yes, I have a malignant brain tumor! There I said it! I'm tired of everyone treating me as special. I just want to be normal for once. Can't I even ask for that?"

Derek's mood changed. He released his grip on the boy. "I'm sorry. I guess I can understand what it's like to wish for normalcy. Living as long as I have, you become envious of humans. The cycle of life and death never ends especially when you can't be with the ones that you love."

"That must suck," said Stiles straightening his shirt. "Is that how it was for Laura's mother? Your mate?"

"Kate was special," remarked Derek. "She was a free spirit and loved life. Watching her die from breast cancer was the worst thing I could ever experience. I guess that's why I went into medicine and became a doctor. I wanted to use my historical experience to help heal others throughout my lifetime. In the end, I couldn't stop her from dying but I can try to help you Stiles have a chance of life if you want it. Let me treat you."

The hazel eyed teen hesitated for moment. He seemed to understand where Derek was coming from. "Yes, Derek, I want you…to treat me, that is."

Derek smiled as he surprised the boy with a hug. Strangely enough, the closeness he felt with the Spirit Wolf felt right for once. He did not want to let go but common sense was different matter.

"Uhh…Derek?" Stiles asked.

"Hmmm?" The Spirit Wolf purred.

"I just realized that Allison got bitten," the teen noted. "Does that mean she's going to turn into a skin-walker?"

Derek let go of their embrace. "Not right away. She has until thirty days until the next full moon to full turn. During this time, her soul will become blacker and more evil. As long as she doesn'y kill a human when the next full moon rises, there is chance we can save her."

"Is there any other way?" Stiles asked.

"Yes, we kill the Alpha that bit her," Derek stated. "Scott McCall. He escaped when I and the Aeiwa chased him but rest assured his bond to Allison is going to be strong. As her brother, you have to force her to fight the connection."

"And if we fail?" The brown haired teen frowned.

"Then she's lost to us!"

* * *

Stiles grabbed the elevator down to meet his family at the hospital Starbucks below. Already, the night had seemed to be getting worse by the minute. He had hoped mocha Frappuccino would ease his troubles. That was until he saw Danny Mahealani wearing a hospital uniform head toward his way.

"Stiles!" Danny called out to him.

"Danny? What are you doing here?" Stiles wondered.

"My parents make me volunteer here for a couple of hours," explained the Hawaiian teen. "They said it looks good on my college applications concerning community service. I just overheard the nurses that Allison and Lydia were attacked by a wild animal in the woods. Are they okay?"

"They're fine," replied Stiles. "They're being patched up and they'll be back to gossiping about boys and commenting about fashion trends in the next few minutes."

"That's good to hear," smiled Danny. "And you?"

"Me?" The brown haired teen shoved his hands in his pocket. "I'm doing good considering all the crazy stuff that seems to be happening to me. Why do you ask?"

Danny grabbed Stiles by the wrist and led him to an empty hospital room. Pulling the curtains behind a nearby bed, the Hawaiian teen shoved the young man against the wall to crush his mouth against his. Surprised by the sudden intimate moment, Stiles gave in and explored his lips with the high school jock. The sudden closeness felt good that he wished to continue the moment.

"Believe or not, Stiles," Danny whispered in his ear. "I still care about you. I think…I'm falling in love with you."

Stile's raised his eyebrows. He did not how to respond. "Danny…I don't want to lead you on but I'm not sure about my feelings right now. My world is too crazy right now and I can't think straight."

The Hawaiian grinned as he stroked the young man's face. "Don't worry, I won't rush you. I'll wait."

Stiles smiled. "Thank you for understanding." He showed his appreciation by kissing him back.

In the next room, Derek pricked up his ears. He heard everything. Sharp pains pierced his heart as he tried to gulp through the agony. Why was he feeling this way? Was he jealous? He was not sure. All he knew was that he did not want to let Stiles Argent go.


	12. Chapter 12

The next few days Stiles watched his sister like a hawk. Though she still had yet to exhibit any signs of her skin-walker transformation, it seemed that Allison and Lydia were well on their way with making a full recovery. News of the animal attack spread like wildfire in the school and it only fueled the girls' popularity even more with heralding tales of surviving their ordeal. Further complicating the situation at Beacon Hills High was Allison continuing to date Scott McCall much to the dismay of her younger sibling. Stiles turned the corner of the hallway hoping to have another private discussion with Allison but discovered that she and Lydia were surrounded by their gaggle of male admirers. Still, he would attempt to make an effort.

Gulping down his confidence, he marched up to his sister ignoring the crowd of jocks sneering at him. He approached Allison who was flirting with lacrosse first line player Matt Daehler.

"Could I talk to you in private for a minute?" Stiles requested.

"Hey Stilinksi!" Matt taunted. "Go with play with your dolls! Only real men are aloud here!"

Fury showed on Allison's face. Grabbing the brown haired player by the throat, she shoved him hard against the wall cracking the concrete behind his back.

"DON'T YOU EVER CALL MY BROTHER THAT!" She growled. "HIS NAME IS STILES! STILES ARGENT! NOT STILINSKI! GOT THAT?"

She squeezed hard on Matt's larynx cutting off his oxygen. Lydia, still wearing a bandage on her face from where the skin-walker cut her, gripped her arm hoping to convince her BFF to let him go.

"Allison! You're killing him!" Lydia begged. "Let him go! Please!"

"Listen to her!" Stiles added. "You're hurting him! Let Matt go! It's okay! They're just words!"

The cheerleader let go off her hand dropping a gasping Matt to the floor. The poor jock scrambled to his feet and ran down the hall followed by the rest of the nervous jocks. It seemed that the pretty cheerleader did not seem so appealing after all.

Holding her arm, Lydia stared at her best friend. "What's wrong with you today? You've suddenly turned into Wonder Woman."

Fear and worry exhibited on Allison's face. Small tears started to secrete from her eyes. "I…I don't know. I'm just not myself anymore since the animal attack. Something's happening to me…I can't explain it…"

"It's okay Allison," Stiles reassured her sister hugging her. "It's the trauma of the attack. It's finally hitting you." He turned to Lydia. "I think we should take her to the nurse so she can rest for a bit. She's had a long day."

Lydia agreed the two them escorted the teenage girl to the nurse's office. Passing through a hallway to the main office, Stiles noticed a tall figure with dark hair and green eyes in a leather jacket and jeans observing them. Excusing himself from the group, he made his way to Derek Hale who was waiting for him.

"Derek! Are you stalking us now?" Stiles asked annoyed.

"The change is starting to happen," Derek commented. "That burst of superhuman strength is only the beginning. Soon her personality will change and she will become darker and more evil."

"Not on my watch, buddy," the brown haired teen emphasized. "I'm going to find a way to cure Allison and break this skin-walker curse."

The Spirit Wolf folded his arms. "Oh really? How are you going to do that, Einstein? Simply go up to Scott McCall and kill him?"

Stiles paused for a moment hoping to think up a witty comeback. "That did cross my mind. Then again I could always call Buffy Summers. If she can handle vampires, she could handle werewolves."

"Let me do the hard labor," Derek clucked. He glanced at Stiles for moment admiring his boyish good looks. The Spirit Wolf had to admit he was sucker for innocent humans. "Unless you would like to do the honor of killing him yourself?"

"That depends," suggested Stiles. Pulling out his silver pendant around his neck, he showed it to Derek. "Does this thing work against Alpha skin-walkers?"

"Nope," Derek shook his head.

"Then I'm screwed," he remarked. "Okay aningan, you had me at hello. I help track him and you hunt and kill him. Capiche?"

"Sounds like a plan," the green eyed man grimaced. "Now why don't you take me to where he is?"

"All the lacrosse players are heading out to practice," Stiles informed him. "We'll have to wait until he's alone for you to strike."

"Better yet while everyone's on the field," Derek began. "Why don't you help me break into his locker so we can find some clues where his pack is hiding themselves. It'll give me a course of action of where to strike them down. Like you said, I can't kill a teenager right in the middle of a bunch of witnesses."

"But a few seconds ago, you were ready to go all Clint Eastwood," muttered the hazel eyed teen. "Boy, you're fickle."

"You make it sound like my job is easy," the Spirit Wolf twisted his lip. "It gets more complicated. The police get involved, the Aeiwa get exposed, and the whole supernatural community is hunted down by humans. I'm sure that's all on my wish list. We got to play this safe by first breaking into Scott's locker."

"You want me to do some breaking and entering of Scott's locker?" Stiles asked. "I didn't know that hunting skin-walkers required committing a felony."

"Stiles! Do you want to save your sister or not?" Derek snapped.

"Fine," Stiles nodded. "However I want you to know I'm doing this under protest. That's the last time I put a leash on you and take you out walking."

Derek stared up at the ceiling. "Oh Hanwi, please let me die now if I have to listen to anymore of this idiot's prattle."

The brown haired teen snorted. "Hey! It's one of my endearing qualities!"

Stiles opened the door to the locker room as the aroma of dirty socks, sweaty underwear, and less than stellar personal hygiene attacked his nose. Pinching his nostrils together, he glanced around before signaling to Derek to enter inside the facility. Scanning the area, the Spirit Wolf knew that the coast was clear.

"Uggh! How can you not let the smell bother you?" The hazel eyed man remarked placing the collar of his t-shirt over his nose.

"When you live the life of a wet dog for eternity," Derek replied. "You tend to get to use to certain aromas."

The teenager sniffed another breath. "Okay, I'm going to throw up now." His hazel eyes scrutinized on Derek. "This stench isn't turning you on, is it?"

Derek slanted his eyebrows in offense. "What?"

"Because if it is, it's okay. I heard that some guys are into this sort of thing…"

"Shut up, Stiles!"

Stiles zipped his lip. Raising his nose in the air, the Spirit Wolf scrunched his nose. Inhaling a breath, he picked up the scent of the skin-walker and directed his attention to the locker at the back end of the room.

"What are you doing?" Stiles inquired.

"I picked up his scent," Derek replied.

"You can do that? Is this some sort of werewolf secret power?" The teen prodded.

"Olfactory senses are one of a Spirit Wolf's gifts," the green eyed man remarked. "It's a blessing."

"Gee and I thought being 147 pounds of pale, pasty skin was my superpower," Stiles retorted.

"Stiles!"

"Hey Derek, give me something I can work with here," the teen commented. "My only skills are my amazing quips and biting sarcasm."

Derek gripped his shoulder to turn the brown haired lad around to face the wall. Pointing to the end of the room, he gave implicit instructions. "Scott's locker. There. Open. Now!"

"Okay, okay," Stiles wriggled. "I do as my Master commands. Do you want me to conjure you up a doggie bone and chew toy because I'm now your genie in a bottle. You gotta rub me the right way!"

Rolling his eyes, he shoved Stiles hard against the locker slamming the metal hard and breaking the lock to allow the door to creak open. The hazel eyed teen shook his head while still in daze as searched through the skin-walker's clothes to see if they could find anything. Stiles hands grazed some leaves from bottom of Scott's jeans to which he pulled it out and showed them in front of the Spirit Wolf.

"Derek, look!"

"I'd like your taste in botany," Derek smirked. Grabbing the leaves from the teen's hand, he sniffed it and examined them closely. "Sycamore leaves. A nest of trees grow only a certain part of Beacon Canyon. I know where the pack is hiding now."

"Now they we solved your mystery Scooby-Doo, can we go now?" Stiles asked.

"In a minute," grinned the green eyed Spirit Wolf. Pressing his hand against the brown haired teen's chest, he pushed him against the row of lockers keeping him firmly in place. Leaning in close, Stiles could feel the warm breath of his lips toward his cheek. The teen's hazel eyes fixed themselves o to Derek's emerald pools as they stared at each other for a minute before a strange electric current shot through their bodies. Slowly, the Spirit Wolf's mouth grew closer as Stiles began to close his eyes in preparation of the handsome man's lips ready to touch his. "I think Scooby gets a Scooby Snack as a reward."

Stiles nodded. With his eyes still close, he pushed his mouth together and waited for Derek's lips to connect.

"Stiles! What are you doing?"

The brown haired lad opened his eyes quickly as he shoved Derek out of the way to face a shocked Danny Mahealani in his lacrosse protective gear. The Hawaiian teen did not appear to be happy to see him especially when he just caught Stiles nearly kissing an older man.

Danny stared daggers into Derek. "Who the hell is this?"

"This? Um...this is…uh," Stiles searched for an excuse. He gawked at Derek for a second and came up with one. "This is my cousin Miguel who is…visiting from Mexico. Say hello, Miguel."

"Hola! Como estas?" Derek played along. "Me gusta burritos!"

The Hawaiian teen was not buying it. "Miguel, huh? Why did it look like you two were making out just now?"

"Um…uh I had something in my eye," Stiles commented. "Miguel was trying to blow it out."

"It looked to me like his mouth was doing more than blowing out something from your eye," Danny clucked. Then his attention turned to Scott's open locker. "Why is Scott's locker open? Are you boosting something of his?"

Slowly, the closed the locker. "No…of course not! He must have left it open. Better yet, I should ask what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at practice?"

"Scott cracked my helmet," Danny told him showing off the damaged gear. "Coach Finstock told me to get a replacement from the equipment closet. The boy plays rough. Me and the other guys are terrified of him."

"You should be," muttered Derek.

"I thought you only spoke Spanish!" The Hawaiian teen accused. "Stiles, what's really going on? Who is this guy?"

Stiles turned to Derek. "Derek. Outside, please."

Derek grimaced annoyed at the young man's audacity. Stiles stood his ground to which the Spirit Wolf finally relented. Spinning on his heels, he headed out the locker room door but not before leaving with a comment. "Yo quiero Taco Bell!"

Observing him leave, Stiles shoved his hands into his pocket to face Danny. He could tell that the Hawaiian teen was obviously hurt by the pained expression on his face.

"Danny, believe me that there is nothing going on here," the hazel eyed teen reassured him. "You don't have to play the jealousy card. I never lied to you about my feelings. I'm still trying to sort things out right now. You have to give me time."

"I know," the Hawaiian teen sighed. "It's that….I saw you with that guy and I freaked. Stiles, I meant what I said that I'm in love with you. That's really hard to for me to say, to admit my feelings especially since both us can't be out at this school."

Stiles placed his hands around the lacrosse player's cheek. "I know, Danny. Here, let me ease your concerns." Wrapping his arms around the Hawaiian teen's neck, he connected his lips to his as they shared a minute of admiration for one another. For once, Stiles felt comfortable being around Danny and he did not care who knew about it. Breaking away from the kiss, he watched Danny smile as he planted a quick peck to his cheek. "Better now?"

"Much," Danny giggled. Running to the equipment closet, he grabbed a new helmet and returned to kiss Stiles quickly. "I gotta get back to practice. See you later?"

"We'll make plans," Stiles promised.

Watching him go, the brown haired teen smiled as he walked around the corner to exit through the locker room door. Suddenly, a pair of claws grabbed his shirt and slammed against the next aisle of lockers. Scott McCall pressed his canine fangs close to the young man's face while his red eyes growled in fury.

"You've been a very bad puppy, Stiles Argent!" He hissed.

Fear shot through the hazel eyed teen but he refused to show it. "Can't…you just teach me not to do my business on the carpet?"

Scott cackled. "A sense of humor? I admire that in my prey! Too bad I have to kill you?"

"Won't that make Coach Finstock angry that he has to clean up the mess?" Stiles suggested. "I mean it wouldn't look good for your teammates to discover a dead body?"

"I'm sure I can convince them otherwise," laughed the skin-walker. "Now let me paint you a picture how this works. You will stop meddling in my affairs. Your sister Allison is mine now! When the full moon rises at the end of this month, she will become my mate and nothing you do will stop her! Not even your Spirit Wolf friend!" Stiles struggled as his eyes widened in horror. "Oh yes, I know that you are working with the aningan! Rest assured, you won't win!"

"I'm not afraid of you," the hazel eyed teen informed him.

"Oh I beg to differ," laughed the skin-walker. Raising a claw, he slowly brought it closer to his eye.

"BE AFRAID OF ME!"

Derek growled. Standing with claws extended, his golden eyes exhibited his rage. Scott's eyes glowed red as the two prepared to battle it out in the locker room.

"What is going on here?"

Coach Finstock put his hands to his hips as the pair of supernatural creatures quickly transformed back to human. Luckily, the authority figure was too oblivious to notice.

"Argent, McCall and whoever the hell you are!" Coach Finstock referenced all three including the mysterious Derek Hale. "If you're not a player on the lacrosse team, then I suggest you leave the building now!"

"Sorry Coach Finstock," said Stiles maneuvering away from Scott. "I was showing my cousin Miguel from Mexico my high school."

"Donde el bano? Tiene tequila?" Derek spouted off.

"I don't know what your cousin said but he needs to leave the premises before I call the cops," suggested the coach.

"Right on it," Stiles replied. Dragging Derek by the arm, they headed for the door.

"This isn't over," Scott whispered to Stiles. "I'll make you sorry."

"Kiss my human ass, doggie!" Stiles shouted.

These were his last words as they exited from the school.


	13. Chapter 13

_Tendrils of branches, roots, and leaves surrounded him. The forest seemed dark as the brown haired lad pushed away the brush to get through the foliage obstructing his path. Separating a drooping vine nearby, he saw it. The reddish, small fox sitting up and gesturing for him to follow, Stiles responded and slowly approached the creature._

_"Come Stiles! Do not be afraid!" He heard voice emitting from the fox._

_Stiles got closer to animal that started to back away. Sprinting across the dirt path, the hazel eyed boy raced after it jumping over fallen logs and darting across grassy fields until finally it stopped. Lifting his eyes, he finally saw the fox's final destination. A tall, ivory oak tree with yellow and purple flowers and extended roots touching silver minerals in the dirt displayed itself in front of the teenager. The fox sat up waiting for him to follow._

_"I don't understand," Stiles said. "What does this mean?"_

_"All will be explained in time," said the fox. Walking behind the trunk, the animal disappeared before a tall, handsome Native American man in tribal clothes came up from around the bark. Bright sunlight glowed from this individual leaving the young man to guess who he was._

_"Wi?"_

_"Yes, it is I, Stiles Argent," said the ethereal being._

_Staring at the sun god's features, he noticed that left side of his face had been disfigured while the right side showcased his handsome dark eyes and structured, sculpted portrait. Long black hair fell across the mangled part of his visage as he smiled down at the young teen._

_"What happened? May I ask?" Stiles inquired._

_Wi nodded. "It was from my great battle with Kalona, the Ravenmocker. The end result ended up with his banishment to the underworld but not before leaving me this vengeful scar. But do not feel sorrow for me Stiles Argent. Beauty is simply a mask. It teaches the nature of humility when you are faced with physical flaws."_

_"He's right."_

_The voice came from someone feminine. Stiles shifted his back to see a gray wolf meandering behind him. With gentle ease, the animal vibrated transforming into a beautiful copper skinned woman with long black hair and wearing a tribal dress._

_"Hanwi!" He greeted._

_"Yes, Stiles Argent," smiled the moon goddess. Moving to her husband, she held him tight as she placed her head against his shoulder. "What my husband, Wi, had mentioned. Flaws merely add character. They make a person even more powerful than they realize. I could not love my husband even more after the Ravenmocker disfigured him."_

_"That's all well and good but why am I here?" Stiles wanted to know. "Is this some sort of new religion you want me to join because I have to tell you that I'm non-denominational?"_

_Hanwi laughed. "No Stiles. We respect the fact that there are humans who follow Christianity. Believe it or not, the wolf spirit is alive in every culture. Like our people, magic is present everywhere and each culture has a guardian spirit protecting humanity. Christianity has their cherubs. The Japanese have their kitsunes. South America has their kanimas. Egyptians have the mai. Africans, their aggasous. Basically, there are guardian spirits everywhere in disguise of human forms."_

_"It still doesn't explain my presence here," noted the young man._

_Wi put a hand to his shoulder. "Believe it or not, Stiles. You have an important role to play in the upcoming battle with the skin-walkers. As I mentioned before you are a part of me. You are the fox."_

_"It was you!" Stiles concluded. "You were in my dream!"_

_"Exactly," replied the sun god. "As the fox, you are part of the sun. Derek, the aningan, is part of Hanwi. A Spirit Wolf of the moon. Together the sun and the moon must work together to stop the yee naaldlooshii from bringing destruction upon the world."_

_"But what can I do?" The hazel eyed man asked. "I don't have any special powers. I can't take on a skin-walker without getting killed."_

_"Your greatest power is your biggest weakness," Wi answered._

_Suddenly Stiles realized what the sun god was referring to. "My cancer?"_

_"Yes," added Hanwi. "Like my husband, his flaw made his stronger. That brain tumor in your head allows you to sense when a skin-walker is near. Even you might have noticed that."_

_"I thought that was all coincidence," Stiles remarked. "A couple of times it didn't always seem to work. In case, you haven't noticed the Alpha seems to one up me!" The young teen shook his head. "So you're saying, I was supposed to get brain cancer? Gee, why can't you give me a nifty gift I can use like a power ring or bracelets that deflect bullets?"_

_Wi sighed. "I know that this disease you have sucks, as you humans say, but believe me everything happens for a reason. This flaw is your greatest asset and will aid you when the time comes. Trust in this ability."_

_Tears began to flow form his eyes. "BUT I DON'T WANT TO DIE!"_

_"Death is not something we ask for but we something we learn to accept," Hanwi noted. "This is your destiny Stiles Argent. Embrace it!"_

_"The sun and moon are the only hope in saving humanity," said Wi. "Accept it!"_

_Bright light flashed in front of Stiles blinding him. Then he felt his body falling…_

* * *

"WAIT!" Stiles shouted from his bed. Swear drenched his t-shirt as he realized he was in his bedroom. Moonlight drifted through his window as he noticed that it was evening. Glancing at his alarm clock, he saw that it was 2:00 a.m. in the morning as he got out of bed and made his way into the hallway.

Seeing Allison's door slightly ajar, he peeked in and saw her rumpled bed empty. Nervously, the young man moved inside to notice her bedroom window open. A throbbing pain pierced his forehead before subsiding as he glanced down at the figure in a nightgown racing on all fours across the driveway and into the nearby woods.

He knew it was Allison. Rushing out of her room, Stiles ran down the hallway to his mother's bedroom to first listen her snoring soundly. Satisfied that she was sound asleep, he dashed into his room to put on a pair of pants, a zipped up sweatshirt, and grabbed a flashlight before crawling out of his bedroom window. Luckily for him, his dad was out patrolling late and wouldn't be home until a few hours allowing him time to retrieve his sister.

Turning on the flashlight, he ran into the woods hoping to find Allison before she did something drastic. Fifteen minutes went by before he crossed over a set of hills to see a dirty figure hunched over something small. Stiles aimed the flashlight at the person to see it was Allison with her mouth and nightgown all bloody while she held a dead animal carcass in her hand.

The high beam of the flashlight angered the feral girl as she dropped the dead animal and sprinted toward Stiles. The hazel eyed teen screamed as older sibling pounced on top him displaying small canine teeth and black eyes as she growled sinisterly above him.

"Allison!"

Instantly, his sister stopped. Gradually, her appearance turned back to normal as her human form stared back her younger sibling who by now straddled him with her strong weight. Scared and disoriented, she looked at Stiles as she got off him and crouched near the bark of a tree.

"Stiles! Oh my God!" Allison sputtered. Her dark eyes turned to the dead rabbit she just devoured. "What did just do? What's happening to me?"

The brown haired teen rushed over to his sister and kneeled beside her. "It's okay Allison. I'll explain everything. Let's just get back home before Mom and Dad find out we're missing."

Walking through the darkness, they snuck through Allison's open window where the young man helped his sister shower and change before discarding her bloodied nightgown. Still reeling from the shock, Stiles assisted Allison into bed and sat by her side.

"Stiles? You know what's going on, don't you?" She asked him worried.

He nodded silently.

"Tell me, please." The haired beauty requested.

"Allison, I don't think you're ready to know yet," he replied sadly. "Even I don't believe it."

"Stiles, please," she reached out him. "Tell me. I can take it."

"Okay," he sighed. "But you have to keep an open mind to things."

The popular cheerleader agreed. Taking her hand, he turned it over to show the scarred wrist of where the animal bit her.

"It concerns this," he told her tracing the line of her wound. "You know those horror movies where the monster bites the girl and she turns into one?"

"You mean like a werewolf?" Allison asked. Her eyes widened in disbelief. "No. No. No. Stiles, I'm not turning into a werewolf. There's no such thing…"

"I'm sorry Allison but werewolves exist," Stiles admitted. "And…you're turning into one."

"Stiles!" The teenage girl slapped his shoulder. "You're freaking me out here! I'm not turning into a werewolf! That's all make-believe! It's all a fairy tale…"

"Look around you Allison!" Stiles grunted. "All the weird stuff that's been happening to this town, how do you explain it? Jackson was killed by a wild animal! Dad having his hands full of strange bodies being found as a result of an animal attack. Now you have been bitten by some hairy, black monster with fangs and red eyes."

"How did you know…I swear I thought I saw…" The pieces started to fit together. Anxiety as well as fear shot through her face. "Oh my God! It can't…it's not possible…I'm turning into that?"

Tears dripped from her face. Stiles held her close for support.

"Shhhh," her younger brother whispered. "I'll find a way to cure you, I promise. I won't let anything happen to you. This will be our little secret."

"Stiles…how are you going to cure me?" She whimpered. "I've seen all the movies. The werewolf usually dies."

"Not this time," he emphasized. "I'm going to find a way to beat this thing. You just have to trust me."

She reluctantly agreed. "How do you know all about this?"

Stiles rolled his eyes. "It's a long story but believe me, I know what I'm doing. Meanwhile, I need for you to do a couple of things."

"Like what?" She wondered nervously.

"Keep your anger in check," he suggested. "The more rage you feel, the stronger you become like when you slammed Matt Daehler against the wall. Try not to attack anyone and more importantly, try not to kill and eat any more rabbits."

"Oh Jeez! I ate a rabbit!" She sobbed realizing her crime.

"Well you didn't cook it in a werewolf oven," Stiles commented hoping to make her laugh. It did not work. "One more thing and I'm not saying this because I'm being overly protective. Stay away from Scott McCall!"

"What?" Allison asked in shocked. "Why?"

"He's a werewolf Allison!" Stiles bluntly blurted out. "The most evil kind!"

"But…but he's too cute to be a monster," she protested.

"That's what they said about Ted Bundy and Jeffrey Dahmer," Stiles argued. "And look at what happened to them. Trust me Allison, you want no part of Scott McCall even if your connection to him is too strong for you to resist. You have to fight it!"

"How…do you know about my bond… with Scott?" She inquired.

"Because he's the werewolf that bit you! I'm sorry Allison to tell you this but it's true."

"Oh God!"

* * *

School that day was especially awkward. Opting to keep a low profile, Allison donned a pair of sunglasses and wore dark clothes as she tried to blend in with everyone. She even went as far as ignoring Lydia who kept sending her text messages and refused to answer back. The red headed teen finally got fed up and cornered the Argent sibling at her locker.

"Okay, give me the 411," Lydia demanded. "You've been avoiding me all day. What gives?"

"I'm sorry Lydia," the dark haired beauty apologized. "I'm just not myself today. I'm a bit under the weather."

"Well get your umbrella ready because I have the latest gossip that you might want to hear," Lydia began to ramble.

Seeing his sister at her best friend's mercy, Stiles immediately stepped in. Grabbing her arm, the brown haired teen began to pull her forward.

"Sorry Lydia," Stiles explained. "Allison is sick today. She'll have to take a raincheck."

The hazel eyed lad stopped in mid-sentence as he noticed his classmates staring at him in amazement. He could feel a tense awkwardness in the hallway as prying eyes peered at him from all corners of the corridor. Shifting his face to the other side, he saw Danny with his mouth opened dropping his gym bag and lacrosse gear to the ground. Turning to the other side, he saw an evil Scott McCall grinning in triumph. Stiles could not understand why. Then one of Beacon Hills High students moved out of the way and the young teen saw what everyone was gawking at.

Row upon row of Xerox copied black and white photographs decorated the lockers and the walls. On the sheets were scandalous pictures of Stiles and Danny kissing passionately in the locker room. If that was not humiliating enough, three letters were written in permanent black marker on each of the photographs. The word **FAG **displayed on every inch of the school walls.

Scott McCall smiled wickedly lifting his cell phone camera to snap a pic. All this was his doing! The picture had now gone viral and there was nothing Stiles could do stop it. Feeling like his head was head to explode, the painful migraine shot through his forehead forcing him to clasp his face. He could hear his heart beating rapidly than normal as he tried to breathe but could not get any oxygen through his lungs. Large droplets of blood fell from his nostrils as he felt the world spin around him and fell to the ground hard.

The hazel eyed teen's body went into a seizure that he barely noticed Allison rushing to his side. Hearing her close to him brought some comfort but no relief.

"CALL 911!" Allison screamed. "MY BROTHER HAS CANCER! HE MIGHT BE DYING!"

Stiles listened to the murmur of the crowd as sirens were heard outside and paramedics rushed to his aid. By this time, he had blacked out.


	14. Chapter 14

Stiles heard the beeping of the patient monitor going off his ear. Slowly, he opened his eyes allowing his blurred vision to see an image standing next to his hospital bed. Beautiful baby blues glanced down at him touching his face for comfort as he smiled in response to the angelic red headed woman with tears in her eyes.

"Mom?" The teen whispered.

"It's okay, sweetie," Victoria answered. "Your family's here."

The hazel eyed young man scanned the room. His father, Sheriff Argent, stood at the corner of his hospital bed moping while his older sister Allison crumbled in her chair pale with worry.

"How…how long have I been out?" Stiles asked.

"A few hours," replied his mother. "You gave us quite a scare. Luckily, the paramedics arrived in time and got you into the E.R."

"Vitals are looking good and blood pressure is down."

Stiles recognized the familiar masculine voice. Dr. Derek Hale's green eyes stared at him offering a moment of comfort while he flipped through the teen's medical chart. Lifting his arm which now contained IV tubes and bandages, the Spirit Wolf checked his pulse to ensure that everything was normal.

"The stress of the incident at school triggered his blood pressure to soar causing undue stress on Stiles," explained the supernatural doctor. "This is accounts for the nose bleeds, temporary respiratory anomalies, a minor seizure and fainting spells. It's good thing too because any undue stress would have brought on an aneurism."

"What about the brain cancer?" Victoria inquired. "Would it have progressed any further?"

"There's that possibility," Derek responded. "Especially since the malignant tumor is spreading. My guess is that it hasn't reached any vital organs yet. However, I recommend that we start radiation therapy tomorrow."

"I think we should do it," stated Sheriff Argent. "Our son's health is an issue. We shouldn't take any more chances."

"Honey, it's Stiles decision," the Argent matriarch advised. "He's the one to go through the treatment. Stiles? I want this to be your choice. You know where your father and I stand on the issue but I want you to decide what's best for you."

"I'll leave your family alone to discuss it," Derek offered. Glimpsing at Stiles once more, he shot him a concerned look and left the room.

"Well Stiles?" His father pushed the issue. "What's it going to be?"

"I…I…I don't know," Stiles responded. "I'm not sure what I want."

"That obvious," Sheriff Argent muttered under his breath.

"Chris! Stop it!" Victoria snapped at her husband. "Stiles is still our son! We will love him and support him no matter what!"

Confused, the brown haired man turned to his sister who nervously bit her lip. "Allison, what are they talking about?"

Small tears drifted from her eyes as she wiped them away with her sleeve. "They know, Stiles. About everything. The photos of you and Danny and the bullying at school. It's all out in the open."

Victoria sat down on the bed and hugged him close. "Stiles, sweetie, why didn't you tell us sooner? We were waiting for the right time for you to confide in us about your sexuality. It doesn't matter who you are. You're still the same baby that we raised and will grow up to be successful individual. Never hide the fact of who you love. Be proud of it. There is no shame in that."

Stiles hesitated for moment before facing his mother. "So you're not humiliated or ashamed that I'm gay?"

The red headed woman laughed. "Sweetie, I always knew you were different. Mothers can tell." Then she turned to Allison. "Even your sister had inkling. We were waiting for you to come out when you were ready. Your father unfortunately is still going to need some time."

Sheriff Chris Argent raked a hand through his brown hair. "I still can't believe I have a gay son."

"What is so hard to believe that I'm gay?" Stiles clucked.

"Well look at the way you're dressed for starters," the officer commented.

"Sorry to disappoint you Dad but I left my neon capris and pink boa at home," the young man cocked his eyebrows.

"I'm sorry Stiles," sighed the sheriff. "I didn't mean it like that. Look Stiles, you're my son and I love you. You're my only boy so part of this macho attitude stems from the way the men in my family were raised."

Sadness displayed on the teenager's face. "Too bad I was a disappointment to you."

"No you're not Stiles," the Argent patriarch sat next to him. Embracing him close, he kissed his son's head before focusing in attention on him. "Cut your old man some slack, son. I'm not use to this gay thing but I promise you I'll come around. It'll take some time but I want you to be happy and be proud of who you are. When I found out what your bullies did at your school, I was furious so I'm going to the school board concerning this."

"NO!" Stiles protested. "Dad, don't! I know what happened to me and Danny was horrible but it'll fuel more hatred among the students. Let me handle this in my own way and in return I'll agree to start treatment tomorrow."

"You're just going to let these punks get away with what they did to you and Danny Mahealani?" Sheriff Argent was furious. "Justice needs to be served for what they did!"

"Justice or revenge?" Stiles asked. It seemed that the teenager had a clearer head. "In the end nobody wins and no lessons are taught except for closed minded bigotry. Let me handle it, Dad."

"Stiles is right," agreed Allison. "Our classmates can be cruel but my little brother knows to outsmart them." Leaning in close, she hugged him in order to whisper in his ear. "We're both broken and I'm scared. Help me!"

The brown haired man whispered back. "I'll find a way to fix everything. I promise. I'm not going to let you down."

"So it's settled," Victoria remarked. "Stiles will start the first treatment tomorrow so he'll miss a few days of school giving him time to adjust to the aftermath of what happened."

"I think the few days off will do me some good," Stiles agreed. "By the way, what happened to Danny?"

"He went home after the paramedics arrived at the school," Allison answered. "I don't know if he's ever going to come back after the situation at school."

"Count on it!"

Danny Mahealani entered Stiles hospital room carrying a bouquet of flowers, balloons, and a Get Well teddy bear. Setting them down by the nightstand, he made his way to the bedridden Stiles and gave him a quick peck on lips. From the corner of his eye, the hazel eyed teen saw his mother and sister giggle while his father had to turn away in disgust.

"Danny, what are you doing here?" Stiles asked. "I thought after what happened today at school that you wouldn't want to see me?"

"I think it's time we head downstairs for some coffee," Victoria suggested to her husband and daughter. "I think the boys would like to be alone." She turned to Stiles. "Anything you want from Starbucks, sweetie?"

"Venti Expresso Macchiato with soymilk and a reduced fat banana chocolate chip coffee cake," said Stiles. "I'm watching my figure."

His family exited the room leaving the two boys alone to discuss what happened. Danny played with the short strands of his brown hair.

"Sooo," said the hazel eyed teen.

"Sooo," responded Danny.

"Care to fill me in on what happened after my apparent collapse?" The Argent teen prodded.

Danny swayed his head back and forth. "Yeah, being outted like that in school certainly was humiliating but actually I'm glad that it happened. After you were sent to the hospital, I went home to face my parents and forced myself to come out. Surprisingly, my family was receptive. Both my parents told me they already knew and were waiting for me to tell them the truth. I can't tell how you how liberating it feels. You?"

"Extremely well," answered Stiles. "Though my dad seems to be in denial. I don't think he's too keen on me to start dating just yet. I wish we've done this sooner."

"Me too!" Danny exclaimed. "It's like a great weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Don't you feel the same?"

"Come to think of it, I do!" Stiles smiled. "It feels weird but freeing!"

Then Danny's expression suddenly changed. "Stiles, why didn't you tell me about your cancer?"

Inhaling a breath, the teenager responded. "I didn't want people treating me different. I mean being gay is already hard enough but to also have a brain tumor is like Make a Wish Kid's dream come true! I'm still the same person but with a few flaws. There's nothing wrong with that."

"I completely agree," said the Hawaiian teen. "So when are you starting treatment?"

"Tomorrow," replied Stiles. "I'm going to miss a few days of school but when I come back it's going to be interesting how our classmates are going to respond."

"I'm sure they're gunning for more homophobic slurs," commented Danny.

"Not unless we fight back first," the brown haired lad suggested.

"What do you mean?"

Pulling the athletic young man close, Stiles whispered his idea in his ear. The Hawaiian teen flinched after hearing his proposal.

"Are you serious?" Danny asked. "You really want to go there?"

Stiles then broke into his Harvey Fierstein impression. "Oh honey! I'm gonna go there and drag someone's mother and their grandmother into it!"

Both boys laughed. Touching the hazel eyed lad's mouth with his thumb, Danny trailed his fingers across the youth's face before leaning in close.

"You know I got permission from my parents to miss a couple days of school," the Hawaiian teen teased.

"Gee, what are we going to do with all that free time?" Stiles smirked.

"Let's see how long we can make-out before your family returns from their Starbucks run?" Danny purred.

"Mr. Mahealani! Kiss me you impetuous fool!"

And so they tested that theory.

* * *

Out in the hallway, Derek leaned against the wall eavesdropping on the two teen's conversation. His heart sank even further. Picturing Stiles lips connecting to Danny shot daggers into his heart. He wanted to be the one to share that kiss, to hold him, to protect him but instead the Spirit Wolf allowed the innocent brown haired young man to share a tender moment with another.

Stiles need that especially with the way everything happened. Deep inside, he wanted to kill Scott McCall for the cruel way he forced Stiles to out himself to the world. He regretted not killing the skin-walker then but this time the monster would not be so lucky.

Scott McCall was as good as dead and Derek Hale was the aningan to ensure that the job was done right.


	15. Chapter 15

The overnight stay at the hospital did some good for Stiles. Getting a good night's rest, the teen woke up the next morning to curtains being drawn to let the light inside his hospital room. Still half asleep, he opened his eyes to see an older woman with gray hair in scrubs smiling down at him. The brown haired lad immediately recognized her.

"Laura?"

"Good morning Stiles," the Aeiwa shamaness smiled. "How is our patient doing today?"

"Reeling from shock," Stiles joked. "You're my nurse? I thought Derek didn't want the tribe leaving the reservation."

Laura shook her head. "We're not prisoners, Stiles. We can come and go as we please. Derek is only overly protective especially with keeping the Aeiwa a secret from outsiders. Besides, your presence there helped him to come around."

"I thought you guys didn't believe in modern technology," the teen noted.

"That's also starting to change," she replied. "Derek finally gave me back my microwave and we're looking into building more generators for electrical power. Yes, Stiles Argent, we are finally going to enter the modern age!"

The shamaness laughed. Sitting up in his bed, Stiles tossed his legs over the side and watched as Laura Hale brought out a wheelchair.

"So who decided that you were to be my nurse?" The hazel eyed teen inquired. "Dr. Derek?"

"Of course," Laura nodded. "Believe it or not, Derek and I are certified medical professionals. It's always good to have that in our background especially with caring for a tribe like ours."

"I thought you had a degree in Humanities and Native American Linguistics?" Stiles pointed out. "When did you find the time to fit a nursing degree in there?"

"When you live on a reservation with no television or internet access, you have plenty of time to do a lot of reading," grinned the shamaness. "Now sit in the wheelchair please. It's time for your first treatment."

Stiles jumped off the bed and sat in the wheelchair. Laura pushed him down the hallway toward the radiology department where he met a debonair Dr. Derek Hale waiting for him near some science fiction looking piece of machinery.

"Good you're up," said Derek. His bad boy smile seemed to bring comfort to Stiles. "Stiles, don't be scared. The procedure is completely painless I assure you."

"That's easy for you to say." Stiles rolled his eyes. "You're not the one turning into the Incredible Hulk."

Derek released a giggle. "Relax. Gamma radiation can't make you all green and angry. Here's how it works." He pointed to the machine. "This is an IMRT which will emit radioactive rays to various areas of your brain to attack the tumor and any nearby tissues that it might be hiding in. According to your CT scans, we'll start with your frontal lobe and go down from there."

"Will there be any side effects?" Stiles asked. "Like will I get any cool mutant powers or shoot webbing from my hands?"

"No though you get to have your hair fall out and get a chance to look like Charles Xavier," Derek teased. "Then there's the nausea, the vomiting, skin discoloration, fatigue, and diarrhea but nothing that will kill you."

"Gee thanks for pep talk Dr. Derek," the brown haired teen rolled his eyes. "I'll make sure to recommend you to all my friends who are suicidal."

Laura knelt down to the boy. "Don't worry, Stiles. Derek knows what he's doing. You're in good hands."

"I hope so," he whispered.

Placing both hands on the armrest of Stiles's wheelchair, the green eyed Spirit Wolf leaned in close. Raking strong hand through the teen's short brown hair, Derek offered him his support.

"Trust me, Stiles. I'm going to make this as easy for you as possible," the Spirit Wolf promised.

Stiles nervously nodded. Lifting his hazel eyes, he saw Derek pull out a mask from the medical cabinet that resembled something from Silence of the Lambs.

"What's that? My new Hannibal Lecter face brace?" Stiles began to do his Anthony Hopkins impression. "I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice chianti." Then he began making a profane slurping sound.

"Do you want me to put some lotion in the basket?" Derek responded with an inside joke of his own. "This is protective mask against the light waves. Standard medical procedure. Don't worry, Stiles I have your back. Now can we begin?"

"Do I have a choice?" The teen snorted. Walking behind the young man, Derek placed the mask over Stiles's face before leading him to the hospital bed where the IMRT machine was waiting for him. Hearing a few buttons pushed on the equipment, Stiles heard the light pass through his cranium as his eyes started to drift off to sleep.

* * *

_He was standing in the middle of the town's square. The familiarity of the place appeared recognizable until he saw the town hall and knew where he was. It was Beacon Hills but not the Beacon Hills that he lived in. In its place were old buildings, dirt roads, and horse drawn carriages._

_Shifting his head toward the meeting hall, he saw flames rose higher touching the night sky. Up above a full moon lighted the starry sky as he watched residents racing past him in a frenzied panic. Three dark figures accompanied by a fourth caught his attention as he raced toward the direction of the altercation occurring near the open fire._

_Wearing dirty slacks and overalls, a tall gentleman with long, light brown hair held an older man with mustache by the throat. Sharp claws tightened around the victim's neck leaving the hazel eyed teen to identify the monster as a skin-walker._

_"No…please…" the older man begged._

_The skin-walker laughed wickedly as he gripped his victim even harder. "Well Mayor McCall, it looks like you're not going up for re-election."_

_More evil cackles echoed behind him as two figures entered from the shadows. Canine teeth and red eyes grinned sinisterly but the brown haired lad still was able to identify the pair. The first was female, pretty with dark curly hair and older than the younger teenager standing next to her. The other was male with dark hair resembling the female. He instantly knew from the resemblance that were mother and son._

_"Scott! Melissa!" Mayor McCall gasped. "What have you done to them?"_

_"I made them better than they were before," grinned the skin-walker. "Stronger, faster, and more powerful than any human alive. Now it's only karmic that the very people who should be responsible for your death are the same people who loved you the most. Your wife and son!"_

_"NOOOOOO!"_

_It was too late. The skin-walker tossed the helpless mayor toward his bloodthirsty family who ripped him apart. The teen had to shut his eyes to block out all the goriness of the massacre as the pair suddenly made their full transformation into skin-walkers._

_"Scott and Melissa! Come and embrace the new head of your household!" The skin-walker opened his arms out for an embrace as the beasts howled with the bloody remnants of the mayor still in their mouths._

_"PETER!"_

_The teenager turned his head to see where the voice was coming from. Derek Hale's eyes turned golden against the full moonlight. With claws and fangs extended, he challenged the skin-walker._

_"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?" Derek screeched._

_Derek referred to Peter Hale, his uncle who was once a Spirit Wolf himself but instead chose to be a skin-walker._

_Peter Hale smirked and folded his arms. "I did what you couldn't do, Derek. I gave our people vengeance. These foolish townspeople of Beacon Hills need to know their true place as cattle for our kind!"_

_"You've sold your soul to the Ravenmocker!" The Spirit Wolf accused. "You have no more kindness or compassion in your heart. For that, it is my duty as the aningan to destroy you!"_

_"You have to get to me first!" Peter cackled. Gesturing to his skin-walker servants, Scott and Melissa in their monstrous forms attacked._

_Derek anticipated their moves and shifted into his gray and white full wolf form. With ease he, tossed both skin-walkers far across the town square as he sprinted after Peter. The main skin-walker in turn transformed into his hybrid form and struck out. However he proved to be no match for the stronger warrior as he too found his body thrown clear across the other side of the woods._

_Seeing themselves unable to defeat the Spirit Wolf, the skin-walker and his cronies retreated vanishing into the shadows as Derek shifted his focus on to the teenager observing the event. Golden eyes stared at him sadly as he called his name._

_"Stiles…"_

* * *

"Stiles!"

The hazel eyed teen opened his eyes through the mask to see Derek smiling down at him.

"The first treatment is done," said Derek. "It only took ten minutes."

Removing the mask from the teenager's face, Laura and Derek helped the boy up from the bed.

"Wow, it felt like I was out forever," noted the brown haired lad. Suddenly he felt his head spin and his inside ready to burst out.

Derek noticed his paleness and questioned him. "Stiles, what's wrong?"

Clutching his stomach, he gagged. "Side effect! Now! I'm going to throw up!"

Laura and Derek assisted the boy into the bathroom where he wretched into the toilet.

The next two days were spent at home where Stiles's mom catered to her son's every whim. As small patches hair started to fall out as Derek explained, the teenager made the difficult decision of shaving off all his hair temporarily while he was undergoing treatment. Feeling better, he called Danny at home to prepare for their first day back at school.

Despite his family's better judgment, Stiles and his new boyfriend formed a plan of how they were going to handle the situation. Grabbing a white t-shirt and some spray paint, they color coordinated their wardrobe as they hopped into Stiles's Honda Civic and headed out to Beacon Hills High. Pulling into the parking lot, the two boys fist pumped each other as they got of the car.

"By the way, I like the new look," Danny complimented him on his shaved head.

"Call me Jean Luc Picard of the Starship Enterprise," Stiles grinned rubbing his bald head.

"Ready?" Danny asked wearing his t-shirt.

"Let's do this thing!" Stiles exclaimed.

Without any hesitation, they opened the front door into the hallway. Their peers stared in surprise but were left speechless as they parted to let the two boys pass. Not one word was said as their classmates watched while the two young men marched over to their lockers with their hands clasped together. Truthfully, their peers could not say anything especially to Stiles whose t-shirt read: _**I'M GAY AND HAVE CANCER. MAKE FUN OF ME NOW!**_ Danny's had a similar logo: _**MY BOYFRIEND IS GAY AND HAS CANCER. WANNA MAKE FUN OF US NOW?**_ Surprisingly, none of their classmates wanted to respond.

Stiles and Danny had done unthinkable. They played into their peers' sympathies and compassion. No one dared to ridicule someone dying and no one dared to bully someone who was different. Looking at each other in victory, they had finally won their reputation back.

Leaning against Stiles's locker, Danny smiled in triumphant. "I can't believe that actually worked. Stiles, you're a genius!"

"That's why you love me," replied the hazel eyed teen. Giving him a quick peck on the lips, Stiles returned to his locker to shove a couple textbook into his backpack.

Lydia and Allison came walking the down hall greeting them with open arms.

"You will never guess the latest gossip!" Lydia spouted rapidly. The scar on her face started to fade away to which Stiles was glad Scott did not leave any permanent damage. On the other hand, Allison began to seem distant and cold. "You two are the biggest thing to hit Beacon Hills High! You're the hottest couple around like Brad and Angelina. Tom and Katie, well before the divorce."

"Homosexuality has gone so mainstream now," Allison smiled shyly. "That now gays are the latest trend at this school. You suddenly now are the cool kids!"

"And get this," Lydia exclaimed. "Principal Lahey was so offended by the bullying tactics that was done to you guys that he's administered a zero tolerance policy stance on bullying. Any student caught doing it means expulsion. It's gotten so crazy that he's now making all sports team take a gay sensitivity course to teach tolerance and acceptance. Isn't that great?"

"Not for me," clucked Danny. "I have to sit through hours of these boring lectures where jocks have to share their feelings. It's not exactly something I want to do with my fellow teammates."

"You'll survive," commented Allison. "Besides, I talked to half the lacrosse players and the majority of them don't care that you're gay, Danny. You're an awesome goalie and they're proud to have you on the team."

"That makes me feel better," Danny smiled.

"And Scott?" Stiles had to open that wound. Allison started to become agitated.

"I haven't talked to or seen Scott in a while," said his sister. "I don't know what's going on with him."

"But you two were really hitting it off," said Lydia. "What happened?"

Allison glanced at Stiles helplessly. "It's complicated.

"Yeah, it's complicated," Stiles repeated.

"Whatever," the red headed girl clucked. She turned to Danny and Stiles. "I'm just glad that you two are finally out. You should've coming out of the closet a long time ago. Your popularity rating would have soared!"

Leave it up to Lydia to discuss in-crowd politics. The bell rang signaling the four of them to get to class.


	16. Chapter 16

"Okay -5 to the x squared and the degree of y is one," Stiles wracked hi brain on polynomials for algebra class. Missing a few days of school did not account for making up the work that he had to finish by the end of week. "And the answer is that I'm hungry." His stomach ensured that with its growling.

Heading downstairs, he caught his mother getting ready to go to work.

"It's ten o'clock at night, Mom," noted the teen. "I doubt that anyone wants to go shopping at the boutique at this hour."

"It's inventory night silly," Victoria Argent smiled. "As store manager, I have to pull a graveyard in preparation for the next season's shipments we're getting in. We don't want to order too much this year." Checking herself in the mirror, she kissed her son's shaved head. "There's still leftover pizza in the fridge as well as lasagna. Your father is doing a late shift as usual and your sister's feeling a bit under the weather so please check on up her. Don't stay up too late, you still have school tomorrow."

"I won't," he said shoving his hands in his pockets. "Mom?"

"Hmmm?" Victoria turned her attention to her son.

"Do you think Dad's proud of me?"

The Argent matriarch sighed. Embracing her son tight, she smiled at him. "Of course he is. Sure he doesn't show it much but deep down he is and he loves you, Stiles. The fact that you faced your bullies and are willing to beat this cancer are what keeps your father going. He can't be any more prouder of you than I am. Now that we've had this pep talk, I want you to stop worrying."

"I promise," he nodded. He waved goodbye his mother as she pulled out of the driveway. Heading into the kitchen, he heated a slice of pizza and munched on it while heading up the stairs to sister's room. Finding it closed, he knocked softly. "Allison?"

No response. He unlocked the door letting himself inside. As usual, her bed had been rumpled but no sign of Allison. Nervously, his hazel eyes focused on the window that had been left opened and he feared the worse.

Racing down the stairs, he rushed outside. A black jeep pulled around the corner to reveal Derek Hale behind the wheel. He did a U-turn and pulled alongside the young man.

"Get in!" Derek demanded.

"Sorry I don't get into a car with strangers," Stiles rolled his eyes.

The Spirit Wolf growled with his eyes glowing golden as a clawed hand dragged him by the shirt and yanked him inside the vehicle.

Thrown against the backseat, Stiles scrambled to feet as the jeep sped off. "You know you could've offered candy. Most strangers offer candy."

"Shut up Stiles!" Derek spat angrily. "I've been trailing Scott and it looks like his bond over your sister is progressing. I've watched her crawl out of her bedroom window from your house."

"You've been monitoring my house?" Stiles scowled. "Is this a new stalker thing you got going? You're not going to boil my bunny or attack me with a knife from the bathtub?"

"Stiles!"

"Okay, shutting up now!" The brown haired teen crouched. "By the way, how are you going to find her?"

"I've picked up her scent as well as the skin-walker's," the green eyed man remarked. "It's seems to be heading in the downtown area of Beacon Hills."

Speeding to the location, the black jeep came across an intersection of the business district of the town. Stiles eyes scanned the area before noticing the back of a dark haired female racing toward an alleyway. Tapping Derek's shoulder, he pointed in the direction where his sister sprinted.

"There! I saw her go in there!" Stiles focused his attention toward the dark alley.

Parking the jeep near the block, the pair got out and began to head down the path. Derek blockaded an arm toward Stiles before going inside.

"Careful," the Spirit Wolf advised. "Let me go in first. It's safer that way if Scott tries to attack."

"Let me at least try to call her out," suggested Stiles.

Derek agreed.

Stiles stepped forward a few inches before yelling his sister's name. "Allison! It's okay, Allison! No one will hurt you! Just come out!"

A guttural growl vibrated through the alley. Out of the shadows a dark haired, female figure began to emerge. Stile's head began to throb with pain as he screamed at the agony piercing his head. It quickly subsided allowing his hazel eyes to stare at the curly haired woman who was not Allison but a strangely familiar female from his dream.

Melissa McCall. Scott's mother. Her eyes glowed red as she held a loaded pistol. She fired.

"Stiles run!" Derek instructed.

Grabbing the brown haired teen, the Spirit Wolf sprinted toward his jeep. Two more shots were fired hitting the pavement and the wall. Stiles managed to get into the driver's seat first and turned on the ignition, shifting the gear, and stomped on the gas pedal. Derek jumped into the passenger's seat as another shot was fired this time hitting the back of the jeep as another bullet struck the side. Melissa howled with evil laughter as she fired the last round which missed them completely as they sped off.

Driving down the deserted streets, Stiles slowed down the vehicle once he realized he was out of harm's way. Focusing his attention to Derek, he turned to him for advice.

"Damn, that wasn't Allison!" Stiles snapped. "When can she be?"

"We have bigger problems," the Spirit Wolf responded. Removing his hand from his arm, the hazel eyed teen saw the large bloody wound on Derek's bicep. The bullet had struck him. "Melissa got lucky with one silver bullet. It's going through my system." He started to turn pale. "It's killing me."

"No. No. No." Stiles panicked. "Derek, I don't know anything about healing Spirit Wolves. You got to help me."

The tall man's green eyes started to go groggy. "You…got to find shelter…get help…" Suddenly he slumped over completely collapsing on the teen's shoulder.

"Oh crap!" The brown haired lad clucked. "How do I get into involve in these messes?"

Driving the jeep toward a familiar neighborhood, he parked in front of a two story Victorian style house with a white picket fence. Derek laid unconscious in the front seat to which Stiles jumped out and raced up the porch of the residence. Noticing all lights turned off, he saw the one lighted window on the second window. Climbing up the drain pipe to the roof, he knocked at the window but got no answer.

Seeing this as a hopeless cause, the young teen climbed down the drainpipe only to be nearly assaulted by a lacrosse stick holding Danny Mahealani ready to bash his head in. Both boys screamed.

"Stiles!" Danny shouted withdrawing the stick. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Me?" Stiles gasped. "You're the one holding the stick ready to gay bash me!"

"I'm not the one trying to break into my boyfriend's house!" Danny corrected. "Now, tell me what are you doing here?"

The hazel eyed teen pointed to black jeep parked right in front. "It's my cousin Miguel. There's… been a little accident so I kind of need your help."

The Hawaiian teen grew suspicious but did not ask questions. "Fine. Luckily, my parents are out bowling and won't be home for hours. I'll help you guys out but then you have to go before they get home."

"Thanks Danny," Stiles kissed him. "Help me get him out the jeep."

Taking both his arms, they helped the Spirit Wolf into the Danny's house and into the chair of his kitchen. Suddenly, the Hawaiian teen's eyes focused on the wound on the older man's arm.

"Is that…blood?" Danny asked.

"Gee, nothing gets past you Danny boy!" Stiles rolled his eyes.

"Stiles, are you two in some kind of trouble?" His boyfriend inquired.

"Define trouble," commented the hazel eyed teen.

"The kind that involves the cops and the possibility of being someone's bitch in prison!" Danny shouted. "Stiles, what is going on?"

"Well Miguel here had this little mariachi mishap at the cantina…" the brown haired lad began.

"Stiles!"

"Look Danny it's a long story. You're going to have to trust me." Stiles requested.

"The poison from the silver…." Derek groaned. "I can feel it spreading…"

"What's he talking about?" Danny asked.

Without hesitation, Stiles ripped apart the long sleeve shirt that the Spirit Wolf wore. The Hawaiian teen felt both a pang of jealously and intrigue as he admired the musculature of the man's well-formed chest. Then his eyes went toward the bloody hole in his arm and the dark black veins starting to form around his biceps. Danny freaked.

"What the hell is that?"

"I don't know but it's not looking good," Stiles commented. "I have to call someone for help." Pulling out his cell, he thought about the list of possibilities. "Laura? No, she doesn't have technology." Then it dawned on him. Dialing the number on his contact list, he rung up the next person. "Mr. Harris? It's Stiles Argent. It's Derek! He's been shot and I don't know how to cure him! Quick hurry, he's at Danny Mahealani's place. 13857 Bettingcourt Road. Okay, see you then?"

"Our history teacher?" Danny inquired.

"You have no idea how helpful he is in this situation," said Stiles. "Could you loan my cousin a shirt? I ripped the bloody one."

"Why did you call him Derek?" Danny referenced the older man. "Isn't his name Miguel?"

"Danny! The man's dying and you're playing twenty questions?" Stiles shouted. "Shirt, please!"

"Fine!" The Hawaiian teen snapped. "But when I get back, you're telling me everything!"

Stiles watched Danny head out of the kitchen. Derek's head drooped to his chest as he raised his chin to get him awake. Seeing that it was not working, he slapped him around to get the Spirit Wolf conscious.

"Don't die on me now Derek Hale!" The brown haired teen ordered. "I'm lousy at planning funeral services."

Green eyes shot up. "Take…the ripped shirt and tie it…around my arm. We have to…cut the circulation…to stop the poison from spreading…"

The hazel eyed teen wrapped the damaged shirt around his bicep and tightened a knot. Derek flexed a muscle making the young man blush. Even wounded, the man looked damn sexy.

"Now grab a butcher knife…" Derek instructed. "Or a meat cleaver…"

Stiles did as we was told and ransacked the kitchen drawers. Grabbing a cleaver, he returned to the table.

"Cleaver here," he said. "Now what?"

"You're going to cut off my arm," Derek directly replied.

His face dropped in horror. The teen recoiled. "What? Are you nuts? I'm not chopping off your arm."

Shaking his head, the Spirit Wolf breathed heavily. "You..have to…the poison can't spread…if you remove my arm…Don't worry…I can heal…my limbs regenerates…"

"I don't know. I faint at the sight of blood," Stiles answered with a excuse.

"STILES! DO IT!" Derek growled.

"Okay. Okay." The brown haired teen placed the butcher knife next to the older man's skin. Raising the cleaver high, he flinched. "Oh God…"

"Stiles! What the hell are you doing?"

Danny stood in the kitchen clutching a shirt next the history teacher Adrian Harris watching in shock of the teenager preparing to mutilate the aningan.

"Thank God," Stiles dropped the cleaver. "You just saved me from a lifetime of nightmares."

Adrian Harris marched to the table to examine Derek's arm. "The silver in the bullet wound is starting to contaminate his body. Hopefully this vial I brought helps." He pulled a small container out of his pocket and a syringe.

"You're a healer too?" Stiles asked. "Do you and Laura take turns being tribal shamans?"

The history teacher grinned. "Actually, Laura is my mentor. She's training me to take over as shaman when she can longer do it."

"Shamans? Tribes?" Danny was confused. "Stiles? Tell me what the hell is going on!"

Derek lifted his eyes to see the shirt in the Hawaiian teen's hand. Breaking out his fake Hispanic accent, he pointed to it. "Senor Stiles! That no fit!"

Stiles grabbed the shirt from Danny and held it up. "Beggars can't be choosers, Derek."

Frowning at the blue and orange rugby shirt, the aningan made a face. "It not my color."

Annoyed with his protestations, he tossed it on the man's face. Adrian Harris lifted Derek's wounded arm and turned to Stiles.

"I have to remove the bullet first before I can inject the syringe," explained the history teacher. Pushing his glasses back to his face, Adrian Harris pulled out a small wood block and a pair of long tweezers. Placing the block between Derek's lips, he gave detailed instructions. "Bite on this! This is going to hurt like hell, Derek!"

Derek nodded. Golden eyes glowed and canine fangs gripped the wood block hard as the history teacher drove the tweezers into the bloody hole. Painful growls emitted from the Spirit Wolf's mouth.

"What the hell?" Danny raised his eyebrows in fear. "What's happening to him? Why does he look like that?"

"Oh God!" Stiles commented. "I think I'm going to be sick!" He had to turn his face away.

Two minutes later, the bloody piece of metal struck the table. Without a moment sooner, Adrian plunged the syringe into the black vein on Derek's arm.

"What's in that thing?" Stiles asked wondering about vial.

"White oak ash, silver, and wolfsbane…" Adrian Harris started to say.

His eyes widened even more. "Wait, won't that kill him?"

"It's kills both Spirit Wolves and Skin-Walkers," informed the history teacher. "But add in other ingredients like mandrake root, ambrosia, and lotus leaves and it negates the poison giving it a healing effect."

"Has this work before?" Stiles asked.

"In theory," Adrian shrugged. Derek appeared worried after his comment. "Based on a few Spirit Wolves I've encountered in my lifetime, they say it's the best treatment for supernatural venom."

Suddenly, all eyes focused on Derek's arm. The black veins started to withdraw retracting back to the origin of the wound before disappearing. Then slowly the bullet wound closed up leaving no trace of a scar or evidence that the aningan had been wounded.

Danny put a hand to his mouth in total disbelief. "Stiles! I want you to level with me! Tell me what is going on. What did your cousin go all Heroes Hayden Panettiere all on us? No more lies."

"Do you want the truth, Danny?" Stiles inquired.

"Yes, I want the truth!" Danny demanded.

"Well you can't handle the truth!" Stiles joked.

"Stiles!"

"Okay here's the thing, Danny boy. Do you believe in werewolves?"


	17. Chapter 17

Danny's brain spun around with too many inconceivable details from the reality of Native American myths, the existence of supernatural creatures, and the fact that there was a huge war between good and evil taking place in Beacon Hills. All of this had been too much for the Hawaiian teen forcing him to slump down in his chair in front of the kitchen table.

"So you're telling me that these monsters? Skin-walkers? They're roaming the town?" Danny asked Stiles.

"Exactly," Stiles nodded.

His brown eyes scanned over Derek. "And this guy? Derek Hale is some werewolf…er Spirit Wolf that guards over humans?"

"Ding ding ding! You've just won our door prize, Danny boy!" The hazel eyed teen raised his hands in the air. "Tell him, what he's won, Johnny!" Placing an imaginary microphone in front of the aningan, Derek swatted his hand away.

"Look Danny," advised Derek. "This is a lot to take in but for your own safety. Stay away from Scott McCall!"

"Oh yeah," the Hawaiian teen rolled his eyes. "He's the Big Bad. The Alpha skin-walker leader! That's going to be hard Derek especially since he's now the captain of the lacrosse team."

"As long as he doesn't know you're aware of his true identity, then you're safe," added Adrian Harris. "Ignorance can sometimes be your best protection."

"And here I thought you were some boring history teacher," grinned Danny.

Adrian Harris did not find the comment humorous. Luckily, Stiles jumped in.

"Danny, my sister's been bitten by Scott!" Stiles blurted out. "I have to find a way to break this curse before she turns into one of them."

"Stiles, you know I'll help you in any way I can but you're asking a lot of me," Danny sighed. "But if I have to play this game, I'll do it for you."

The brown haired teen ran over his boyfriend and hugged him. Kissing his forehead, he looked down at him with gratitude.

"Thanks Danny," the teen replied. "It's better this way, I swear."

Somewhere inside Derek's soul felt like dying a little. Observing the two boys affectionate with each other made him envious of Danny's devotion to Stiles. He wanted to trade places with the Hawaiian teen and share that same connection with the brown haired teen but realized that was not possible. Swallowing his pain, he brooded for a while before saying something.

"I better get you home before your parents suspect something," suggested Derek.

"But Allison?" Stiles reminded him of missing sister.

"We can't do anything about it now," Derek told him. "It'll be even worse if you both are missing. Allison can't turn completely until she makes her first human kill on the next full moon. Scott won't do anything to jeopardize that especially since he wants her for his mate."

Stiles reluctantly agreed. Kissing Danny goodbye, the teen along with the Spirit Wolf and the history teacher got in their vehicles and drove home.

* * *

_The smell of fire, burnt debris and death filled the air. The brown haired teen examined the area. Destroyed settlements were the least of his the horror that he witnessed as he scanned row upon row of corpses in the open field._

_In the distance, he heard the triumphant call of white cavalry soldiers riding their troop across the sunset and back into town. That is when he saw the pair. There was no mistaking the long dark hair and green eyes garbed in tribal clothes. Derek Hale symbolized the perfect warrior and the young man wanted to race over and embrace the aningan. Standing next to him was a pale face tribal member with light brown hair. It was Peter Hale._

_"See this Derek?" Peter hissed. "See what compromising with humans has done? The Aeiwa have been slaughtered!"_

_"I am angry too but retaliating is against our laws," said Derek. "We will not go after them. I say we take the surviving members of our tribe and head north where it is safe!"_

_"No Derek!" Peter snapped. "The people of Beacon Hills must pay for this especially Mayor McCall! He ordered this massacre all in the name of what? Gold! Gold mines that rightfully belonged to the land of the Aeiwa! We need to honor our people by waging war on the town!"_

_"Peter! That is not the way of the Spirit Wolves!" The green eyed man stated. "Our Creator forbids it! Our Moon Goddess Hanwi forbids it! We shall not act!"_

_"Then I defy the Coyote Man and our Gods!" Peter screamed. "I am a Spirit Wolf no more!"_

_"Peter! No!" Derek protested._

_It was too late as Peter shifted into his wolf form and sprinted away._

_"Sad, isn't it?"_

_Stiles turned behind him to see the beautiful moon goddess Hanwi coming toward him._

_"Why are you showing me this?"_

_"To understand," explained the moon goddess. "Greed is what started this conflict between Beacon Hills and the Aeiwa. The California Gold Rush of 1850. The precious mineral was abundant in this area at the time and the Mayor McCall and his officials sought to take it from the tribe by force."_

_"By slaughtering an innocent Native American tribe?" Stiles was speechless. "All for a yellow stone?"_

_"The white man has been massacring Native Americans throughout history," smiled Hanwi. "This is not any different. Now watch and learn."_

_The scene changed. Peter Hale stood in the middle of the open field of the forest under the moonlit sky. Raising his hands to the heaven, he muttered a strange incantation._

_"I invoke the spirit of Kalona, the Ravenmocker! Make me your new servant!"_

_The ground rumbled as dark shadows drifted through the cracks in the ground forming a swirling mist. Surrounding the Spirit Wolf, Peter Hale grinned as a sinister voice called to him._

_"Aningan…why…have…you…summoned…me…"_

_"I wish for your dark power Great Kalona!" The Spirit Wolf pleaded. "I give up my birthright and legacy as guardian to embrace your teachings!"_

_"Do…you…accept…me…completely…Do you…forsake…all…other…Gods?"_

_"I do," smiled Peter._

_"Then…so…be…it…Embrace…the…evil…kill…for…me…Take…your…revenge…"_

_Stiles observed the shadows encircle the Spirit Wolf. The perfect lupine form suddenly changed drenching the pale skin into blackened ash of fur, fangs, and red eyes. The monstrous creation howled in delight as it raced through the woods and into the town._

_Back at Beacon Hills, Scott McCall escorted his mother, Melissa from an elite party held at the town hall. Selecting a shortcut through a dark alley, the pair laughed as Stiles watched the skin-walker stalk its prey._

_"That was lovely evening, Mother, wasn't it?" Scott asked removing his hat._

_"Oh your father sure knows how to celebrate in style," laughed his mother. "I do say though, Scott, that I noticed a couple eligible ladies giving you looks tonight. Perhaps there is one that you wish to court?"_

_"Perhaps there might be," grinned the young man._

_Red eyes peered in the darkness causing them to stop._

_"Scott! Wait! There's something up ahead!" His mother commented with worry._

_"What is that?" The young man asked._

_They did not get the opportunity to fun. They screamed as soon as they saw the skin-walker leaped at them from out of the darkness._

* * *

"NOOOOO!"

Stiles woke up drenched in sweat. It was only a dream or was it? Staring at his alarm clock, he had thirty minutes to get ready in the morning before heading off to school. He raced to the bathroom.

Coming down the stairs, he saw both his parents by the kitchen table with distraught looks on their faces. Stiles suddenly remembered that Allison was not up her room. He had a lot of explaining to do.

"What's up?" Stiles appeared nonchalant.

Sheriff Argent held up a piece of paper to his son. Taking the note, he saw in big bold messy letters_: **LIFE SUCKS. I HATE THIS PLACE. I'M GONE! - ALLISON **_The brown haired teen shifted his gaze to his mother who had been crying and his father who seemed lost.

"Where did you find this?" Stiles asked.

"Allison's bedroom," replied his father. "The window was open and she's missing. Stiles, you were the last one to see her last night. Did she say anything to you or was upset about anything?"

"No," he lied. There was no way that he was going to explain about his sister turning into a skin-walker. "I checked up on her as Mom asked me too. She was sleeping before I went to bed. Do you think she ran away?"

"I don't know," said Sheriff Argent. "But I don't want to rule out that possibility. It's not like her to do something like this. It is out of character for her."

"It certainly is," Victoria sobbed. "I don't believe that note at all. That's not her handwriting. She's been taken. I have this gut feeling about it! We have to find her."

"I called my people and the state troopers and they're on the searching for her as we speak," said the Argent patriarch.

"I could stay home, make flyers, and help out?" Stiles suggested. The one person who knew where Allison was Scott McCall and he had to find a way to interrogate the Alpha without getting killed.

"No. That's sweet that you're concerned about your sister," sniffed his mother. "But you've missed too much school already. I want you to attend and maybe ask around. Interview her friends like Lydia to see if they know where she might be."

"I will Mom," replied the young man. Embracing his mom close for comfort, he kissed her cheek in support. "Don't worry, we'll find her.

Already the news of Allison's disappearance hit Beacon Hills High, Principal Lahey made an announcement for students to come forward about information on the popular cheerleader's whereabouts. None did. Even Lydia assisted Stiles in gathering clues but came up empty handed. Sucking up his fears, he waited afterschool for Scott McCall.

Heading out of the locker room, he spotted the skin-walker teen walking to the indoor pool and followed him into the facility. Apparently being a the captain of lacrosse team added some extra perks as the dark haired young man had the swimming pool to himself. Hearing him splash laps in the water, Stiles snuck behind the bleachers as he waited for the Alpha to get out.

Immediately, a sharp pain pierced his head as he felt a large claw grip his throat and lift him up from the ground. Stiles struggled as he stared into the face of the angry skin-walker.

"You know Stiles," growled the monster. "You are really starting to become a pain in my ass."

"It's one of my best qualities," the hazel eyed teen joked.

Stiles watched in horror as he extended his razor sharp talons. The heard the stomp of angry feet as he saw Derek's golden eyes racing toward him. Throwing the brown haired man to the bench nearby, the skin-walker roared as he rushed toward Derek. Sharp claws and canine teeth were bared as the two swiped at each other. The aningan proved to be a stronger opponent as he knocked Scott to the ground. However the skin-walker had a dirty trick up his sleeve.

Digging a talon into the Spirit Wolf's leg, he grinned wickedly as the green eyed man collapsed to the ground face up to see his enemy gazing down at him. Stiles ran to help his ally with a pool net in his hands but got scratched instead on his arm by the skin-walker.

"Noooo!" Derek protested as he observed the teen falling on top of his chest. Both men found themselves unable to move.

Scott raised his sharp claws to display them dripping with a clear liquid. "Kanima venom. It causes temporary paralysis on its victims. Peter keeps some on hand for a very special occasion like this one."

The skin-walker cackled before releasing a howl. Leaning in close for both men to hear, he retracted his claws.

"I have to say that you both make a cute couple," Scott taunted. "Sadly, I'm not going to kill you both because it's not the right time for that. Instead, I'm going to make you wait. You want to rescue your sister, Stiles, then go ahead and try. Come and get me during the lacrosse game this weekend. I'm sure your parents would be happy to know she didn't run away and that I have kept her my prisoner. I'm sure they'd love to know that she is going make a fitting mate for me and breed me plenty of cubs. Did you like the runaway note I left in her room this morning? I'm quiet the poet!"

Stiles discovered he could still move his mouth. "Scott, you don't want Allison. There's plenty of willing mates out there. Take my neighbor's poodle for example. She's always in heat. Plus, have you seen Allison in the morning without make-up? It's not really pretty."

"Shut your mouth or I'll tear it off!" Scott spat. "The lacrosse game this weekend! Let's if you're brave enough to face me!"

The two men observed the skin-walker disappear down the corridor leaving the two of them immobile. Resting his shaved head on Derek's chest, the brown haired teen inhaled the aningan's masculine scent.

"Boy, you smell good," Stiles commented. "Aramis cologne?"

"No I don't wear fragrances," Derek rolled his eyes. "Now can you move your head at all?"

Stiles tried but failed. "Nope." Then he attempted a different tactic. "Wait, I can move my tongue."

Pressing his tongue against Derek's shirt he managed to prop himself up as he made his way down the hard surface of the aningan's muscular chest. Embarrassed, the Spirit Wolf inhaled a breath as the teen's mouth lowered himself even further down.

"Is any body part of yours moving yet?" Stiles asked having his face muffled toward Derek's shirt.

"Oh one part of my body is moving," grinned the green eyed man. "But it's not my legs."

The hazel eyed lad managed to glance down to see what he meant and made a sour face. "Uggh! Derek, did you have to do that?"

"Hey it's your fault," laughed the Spirit Wolf. "You started it."

"I didn't know you were a homo…" Stiles began to comment.

"A homo…what?" Derek demanded an answer.

"A homo…homogenized milk drinker," the teen answered. "Unless you're lactose intolerant. Then again…"

"Stiles!"

The brown haired youngster sighed. "Derek, can I ask you something?"

"Go ahead," clucked the green eyed older man. "It's not like I'm going anywhere."

"Do you find me attractive?" Stiles finally asked.

Without hesitation, Derek blurted out. "Yeah."

"Okay then…"

"Stiles? What the hell are you doing? I come trailing after Derek and I find you two like this!"

Hazel eyes grazed over Derek's six pack abdomen to see an angry Danny Mahealani with his arms folded. More than disapproval showed on the Hawaiian's face but also complete total rage.

"Why is your face buried on Derek's stomach? Better yet why are you guys literally faced down on the ground?" Danny wanted to know.

"I know this looks really bad," responded the young man. "But I swear this is Scott's doing. He paralyzed us for a bit and now we can't move. A little help?"

Danny did not believe him but he still had to assist his boyfriend and the Spirit Wolf. Helping both men sit up, he shot daggers into Derek Hale.


	18. Chapter 18

Once again Stiles felt the face mask mold to his face as his body prepared for another radiation treatment of the IMRT. Next to him, he heard Dr. Derek Hale fiddle with the buttons on the device as he heard the machine get closer to his cranium. It had been a few days after the incident with Scott but the young man focused more on getting better and fighting the cancer in his brain despite the chaos occurring outside of the hospital. He even felt it with his parents who remained distraught over the fact that Allison was still missing but they managed to pull themselves together and continue on with their lives. With all this over his head, the teen pushed all his troubles away and concentrated on being healthy.

"Okay Stiles," said Derek. "This is your second treatment. Same routine as usual. You ready?"

Stiles gave him a thumbs up as the light waves passed over his skull. Lasers scanned his brain leaving the young man to sleep off the procedure. Then he entered his dream…

* * *

_He stood over the edge of the sycamore trees watching a roaring fire touch the night sky. Far ahead, the skin-walker pack consisting of Scott, his mother, Erica and Boyd devoured the remains of a deer they just killed. Bloodied and famished, the monstrous group consumed the poor animal leaving very little in the end._

_While the pack feasted on their food, Stiles observed Peter Hale caked in fresh animal blood dancing around the fire. The former Spirit Wolf chanted several incantations causing the blaze to burn even brighter as small shadows darted around him. Then an unearthly voice answered._

_"What…is…it…you…want…."_

_"Kalona, I beseech you!" Peter raised his hands. "Grant me power as you promised. Make your most loyal servant as powerful as you!"_

_"Are…you…worthy…"_

_"I am, Lord Ravenmocker!" Peter replied. "Bestow upon me your power!"_

_"Then…you…must…do…a…task…for…me…"_

_"Anything, Lord Ravenmocker!" The shaman vowed._

_"Free…me…Free…me…from…my…infernal…prison…"_

_"But how?" The skin-walker asked._

_"Sacrifice…in…my…name…Prove…your…loyalty…"_

_"I shall!" Peter shouted._

_"Let…no…one…stray…you…from…your…path…Show…only…obedience…to…me…"_

_Down on his knees, the skin-walker bowed. "I pledge my allegiance only to you, Lord Ravenmocker."_

_"Good…prove…it…Sacrifice…your…pack…for…me…"_

_"So it shall be done," the shaman agreed._

_"One…more…request…Sacrifice…the…perfect…human…on…the…night…of…the…blood…moon…Then…I…shall…be…free…to…grant…you…power…"_

_"Yes, Lord Ravenmocker!" The skin-walker glanced over to the pack eating in their meal. They had no idea what was in store for them. "It shall be done, Lord Kalona."_

_"Excellent…now…do…not…summon…me…until…the…ritual…of…the…blood…moon…"_

_"Yes, Master…"_

_The nightly woods then suddenly changed. Stiles stared at the tall, ivory oak three as the sun god Wi came around it._

_"Stiles Argent," smiled the sun god. "Now you know of Peter Hale's plan."_

_"Yeah but how do we stop him from carrying it out?" The teen inquired._

_"Simple," replied Wi. "We make sure he does not find the perfect human to carry out blood moon ritual."_

_"Easier said than done," said Stiles. "Where are they going to find the perfect human to sacrifice?"_

_"Kalona is an envious god."_

_The moon goddess Hanwi came up around the tree. "He believes that the Great Creator favored humans more than the gods. He believes that humans were made to perfection according to the Coyote Man and he wants to shame the O-let-te for banishing him to the underworld. That is why he wants a sacrifice of a human on the night of the blood moon."_

_"What's the blood moon?" The teen asked._

_"It only occurs once a year," informed Wi. "It is when the full moon glows a bright red in the night sky."_

_"It also a reminder of the night the Ravenmocker defiled me," added Hanwi sadly. "That resulted in me bearing the skin-walkers to destroy the humans."_

_"But you also bore the Spirit Wolves which protected us," said Stiles. "You can't fault yourself for that."_

_Hanwi giggled. "True, though it's not without its troubles. My Spirit Wolf children learned to embrace human love and compassion but it also became their greatest weakness. However, I don't regret begetting such warriors if it means sharing that same love and understanding with the human world."_

_"It's still does not answer my question," Stiles emphasized. "How do I stop the ritual and Peter Hale?"_

_"You'll know, Stiles Argent," Both deities remarked._

_Then his eyes awoke…_

* * *

"Stiles, treatment is done." Derek told him removing the mask.

A large, rumble in his stomach told the young man that the side effects were coming. Signaling to the green eyed doctor, the aningan lifted the boy and assisted him to the bathroom to vomit.

Five minutes later and still feeling nauseated, Derek wheeled Stiles back to the hospital room where an annoyed Danny in volunteer hospital scrubs sat on his bed with a bouquet of flowers. Helping the teen on the mattress, the Spirit Wolf made a hasty exit as he sensed the Hawaiian's disappointment at his presence.

"Care to tell me what Derek Hale is doing here?" Danny accused.

The hazel eyed teen's head kept spinning. He really did not need this confrontation with Danny right now. "He's my doctor. He's treating me for my cancer until my regular physician returns."

Danny slammed the flowers on to the nightstand. "How convenient!"

"Why are you getting so mad at?" Stiles clutched his throbbing head.

"You think he's hot, don't you?" The lacrosse goalie asked.

"Danny, come on!" Stiles deflected. "You can't be serious! Okay I admit he's hot but don't tell me that you're not thinking the same thing! You're a hormonally charged teenager like me!"

"Yeah but I would never consider cheating on you!" The Hawaiian teen snapped.

"Whoa! Hold on a second!" The brown haired lad raised his hands. "You think Derek and I? We? For God's sake Danny, the guy is old! We're talking possibly George Washington old! I know some guys are into cougars but I prefer dudes who didn't contribute to the Declaration of Independence."

"You can't be that oblivious!" Danny stated. "Don't you see how he looks at you? Can't you see the connection?"

"I'm still trying wrap my head around the fact you're jealous of a guy who needs to lift his leg to pee in a bush," Stiles raised his eyebrows.

"Go ahead and make jokes!" Danny yelled. "But until you can figure out what you want, don't bother on calling me!" He grabbed the bouquet of flowers and walked out of the door.

Sadness settled in Stiles's throat making it difficult for him to swallow. He reached out for his boyfriend but grabbed only empty air.

"Danny…I'm sorry," he whispered as tears started to flow.

* * *

Out in the hospital corridor, the Hawaiian teen saw Dr. Derek Hale coming up the hallway and grabbed his sleeve. Cornering him near an open hospital room, he signaled for the green eyed man to follow.

"You wanted to talk to me?" Derek asked.

"I know what you're doing!" Danny told him.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Derek answered. He began to leave before the teen grabbed his arm.

"I know you want Stiles!" The Hawaiian teen flatly stated. "Admit it!"

"Danny…"

"Save it!" His brown eyes sneered. "Why can't you leave him alone? Has he suffered enough with this cancer, his sister missing, and now you confusing his feelings? He doesn't need all this craziness in his life."

"I agree," Derek nodded. "However, none of us asked for the existence of the supernatural world to be made public knowledge but it has. We just have to deal with it."

"And what if this dealing with it gets him killed?" Danny struck a nerve.

"That won't happen," the Spirit Wolf assured him. "Not while I'm protecting him."

"How can you be so sure?" The lacrosse goalie prodded.

"Because you're not the only that loves him," Derek finally admitted. "Yes, Danny, I love him too and I'll be damned if I have to watch him die. I swear that I've done nothing to compromise your relationship with Stiles nor am I going to. The truth is that we can never be together. That is why you're a better fit for him than I am. I don't know what's going to happen with this cancer but at least I can be content in always knowing that his life was better spent with someone that loved him in return. You are the only one that he is meant to be with. Be satisfied with that."

"I don't think I can," Danny replied sadly. "I can't and won't be Stiles's second best." With that said, he left the room.

An hour passed and Stiles, though weak, was feeling a little bit better. The argument with Danny left a hole in his heart and he needed to have a good cry in his own bed. Derek knocked on his door to check up on him.

"How are you feeling?" His green eyes inquired.

"Better," answered the young man. "None worse for wear."

"Is one of parent's picking you up?" Derek asked with concern.

"My mom," replied Stiles. "She's getting off work in another hour."

"You know, I could drop you off at your house?" Derek offered. "That is if you don't mind getting into a car with a total stranger?"

The brown haired man smiled. "That depends. Do you have any candy to lure me?"

"I think I have some old Tootsie rolls hidden in the passenger's seat," laughed the Spirit Wolf.

"Hot damn! Let's go!" Stiles roared.

* * *

Derek's black jeep parked right in front of the Argent residence allowing Stiles to unbuckle his seatbelt. As the hazel eyed teen prepared to open the passenger door, Derek caressed the shaved bald spot of the young man.

"Do you need me to help to your door?" Derek asked.

"No," Stiles giggled. "I think I can manage. The nausea is starting to go away."

"By the way, I overheard you and Danny arguing," said the aningan. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop but I was concerned. Are you okay?"

Casting his eyes down, Stiles shook his head. "I don't know. He said a couple things that made me think." He then turned to Derek. "Derek, can I ask you something?"

The Spirit Wolf sighed. "Sure." Already, he knew the question.

"Do you want me?"

Strong hands reached around his shoulder holding Stiles in place. Feeling the tug of his body, the brown haired teen felt his body moving toward the green eyed older man. Derek smiled exhibiting a sinful glint in his eye.

"Way too much for my own good," the Spirit Wolf replied. Connecting his lips to Stiles's, an electric heat surged through their bodies. Clumsy hands and masculine limbs clung to each other making up for lost time as they satisfied that aching need to be together. For once, the bond between the two men felt right and neither wanted it to end. Instead they explored their feelings allowing the mouths to communicate their emotions.

Stiles Argent finally felt safe.

* * *

Repeated sounds of water droplets angered the young woman. She growled at row of pipes surrounding her hoping it would end. Baring her small fangs, she struggled with the manacles and chains clasping her wrists and feet as she heard her captors coming inside the room.

Scott McCall and his mother, Melissa, opened the door to the abandoned, underground boiler room of Beacon Hills High as they observed the feral Allison roaring at them from behind her prison.

"Oh look Scott," cackled his mother. "She reminds me of me at her age! You chose the perfect the mate unlike that bitch, Erica!"

"She's going to breed me plenty of cubs," smirked the Alpha.

"I always wanted grandchildren," teased the female skin-walker.

Tossing a dead rat toward Allison, the teenage girl's eyes glowed red as she devoured the vermin. Tearing at the carcass, she consumed every last drop of the rodent.

"I can't wait for the blood moon this month," Scott commented. "Her brother Stiles is going to be the perfect human sacrifice for us!"


	19. Chapter 19

Victoria Argent sat in the bleachers putting on a brave front as she watched the hometown boys of Beacon Hills play the visiting team during the weekend lacrosse tournament. Her mind wandered to her missing her daughter but managed to retain her composure during this difficult time. Sitting next to her was a bald headed teen wearing a cotton beanie offering a hot cup of cocoa while a loud horn blasted from the announcement box.

"Extra marshmallows," said Stiles handing her a cup. "Just the way you like it."

"Thank you sweetie," replied Victoria. Her eyes floated toward Lydia and the other cheerleaders who continued to get the crowd riled up. She counted the missing hole in the squad.

"Don't do that to yourself, Mom," the hazel eyed teen advised. "We will find Allison. Dad and his friends haven't stopped looking. We need to still keep the faith." He put an arm around her.

"I know Stiles," she sighed. "I keep thinking she'll show up."

"We can only hope," he muttered.

The crowd stood up on the bleachers as soon as the hometown team arrived on the field. Stiles directed his focus to Danny who was wearing his goalie gear as he applauded louder than anyone else in his favor. It had been three days since Danny gave him an ultimatum and the Hawaiian teen made good on his word of ignoring the brown haired lad's phone calls and texts.

"By the way, I've noticed that you and Danny have been hanging out less and less," Victoria remarked. "Is something wrong?"

"We're working out a few kinks in our relationship," replied Stiles. "The normal communication stuff most couples go through."

"It'll all work out, sweetie," said his mother. "You too were made for each other. I can't think of anyone who is more perfect for my son."

Stiles had and he had green eyes, dark hair, and brooding personality. Not only that, the man could transform into a domesticated house pet. What is there not to love?

"And the ball is set!"

The announcement box declared. Stiles scanned the field to read Scott McCall's number 11 jersey. The Alpha demonstrated his skin-walker status as he caught the ball in his lacrosse stick and barreled over two rival players. The sickening sound of a broken leg echoed on the field while the other opponent was knocked out cold by Scott's superhuman strength. Dodging the rest of the players, Scott tossed the ball across the boundary line and launched it toward the goal net. Sure enough, it made contact securing the winning point.

The crowd cheered wildly. From atop the bleachers, Stiles looked at Danny who shook his head. The Hawaiian teen knew the truth about his team captain and became unimpressed. Still, he played the charade well by getting his head in the game and not allowing the other team to score a goal. Fifteen minutes later with a few of the rival team's player damaged by Scott's skin-walker abilities, the lacrosse goalie managed to signal to Stiles that the Alpha might be planning something. Both boys could only theorize.

Casting a glance toward the shadows, Stiles saw the presence of the Spirit Wolf near the corner of the bleachers. Turning to his mother, the hazel eye teen came up with an excuse.

"Mom, I forgot my phone in the car," he told her. "I need to go and get it."

"You can use mine," Victoria offered him her cell.

"Thanks but I have few contact numbers that I need to get," he lied. "I'll be back in a second."

"Don't take too long! You'll miss the winning goal!" She called out.

"You know me and sports, Mom," Stiles joked. "We don't mix."

Rushing down the bleachers, he met with Derek who pulled him behind the stands.

"Okay, aningan!" The teen declared. "You got a game plan?"

"Yeah. Find your sister and hopefully kill Scott." Derek bluntly stated.

"That's your plan?" Stiles clucked. "I could've told you that all along!"

"I picked up her scent," the Spirit Wolf informed him. "I think the skin-walkers are keeping her somewhere inside the school. Since everyone is distracted watching the game, we'll use that opportunity to search for her."

"But won't that make Scott suspicious?" Stiles asked.

"He's too busy trying to win the game," the green eyed man replied. "That'll buy us some time. However, his pack might be guarding Allison inside. Are you still wearing your silver pendant?"

The teen reached into his shirt and pulled out the charm.

"Good," said Derek. He reached into his leather jacket and pulled out a silver dagger. "Take this too, just in case. It's laced with wolfsbane. In case a skin-walker goes for you, stab it!"

"You don't have to tell me twice!" Stiles exclaimed.

Slinking into the shadows, the pair headed toward the entrance of the high school. Sneaking through the shadows of the hallway, they examined the various corners of where Scott's pack might be hiding.

"Skin-walkers tend to go for the throat to take their enemies down," the aningan advised. "Strike with the blade before they get the chance."

"Wow Derek, this new found superhero persona is making me very attracted to you," Stiles commented. "You wanna make-out?"

The Spirit Wolf smirked at the request. Gripping the young man's wrist, he shoved him against the locker as he body leaned in close for a kiss. Suddenly, a sharp pain crossed his forehead. Seeing the teen in anguish, the aningan questioned him.

"Stiles, what's wrong?"

"Skin-walker…near," the teen managed to say.

With his eyes glowing golden, the supernatural guardian shifted his face to bare his canine fangs. Long light brown hair glared at him through the darkness as red eyes displayed with ferocity at the guardian spirit. Peter Hale growled before transforming into black, hairy beast and charged at the duo.

Derek stood his ground. Unafraid to battle his uncle, he transformed too into his full gray and white lupine form and pounced on the skin-walker. The two clawed, bit, and wrestled each other as the rolled around damaging school property in the process. Nervous fear shot through Stiles as he heard Derek's voice echo in his head.

"Stiles! Run!"

The hazel eyed teen did as he was told. Sprinting across the stairs to the next level, he found the empty corridor and raced toward the emergency exit that led to the outside. Unfortunately, another searing pain filled his temple as he saw a skin-walker burst through the door. Swiping at him with its sharp claw, Stiles raised up his necklace as a burning sensation wounded the creature's arm.

A scream, both guttural and feminine, emitted from the skin-walker's lips to which Stiles recognized the monster as Scott's mother, Melissa. Feral rage displayed on her red eyes as she bounded toward a group of lockers and attempted to pounce at full force at the teenager. Not wanting to stay for the outcome, Stiles ran toward the other side of the hallway quickly shutting the door close as Melissa crashed through the barrier splintering the wood with ease.

Seeing no other choice, Stiles descended down the stairs and ran through a series of hallways finally seeing a utilities door to his left. Hearing the female skin-walker at his heels, he let himself in and took the concrete stairs down that led to the old maintenance area of the high school. Crossing to a door that said Boiler Room, he slipped inside and barricaded himself in.

Soft droplets of water could be heard from the pipes around him as he slowly explored the large room. Seeing endless cobwebs, he got a creepy feeling inside.

"Great Stiles," he whispered to himself. "This is how most people get killed in horror films by investigating."

The rattling of chains startled him as he saw through the dimly lit light a figure wrapped in metal. Making out the features to be feminine, he peered closely at the individual and identified her.

"Allison!"

His sister looked up but what appeared before the teenager was not the dark haired beauty but a dirty, wild beast with small fangs and red eyes. It snarled at the hazel eyed lad and lunged but was kept at bay by the manacles and chains weighing her down. Attempting to claw at her sibling, Stiles hoped to reason with her.

"Allison, it's me Stiles!"

The thing growled as it pushed against its restraints. Trying another attack, the creature attempted to strike at the teenager. Touching the boundary of Stile's charm, it burned Allison's skin forcing her to recoil in frustration. Stiles realized he had to do the unthinkable.

Removing the necklace, he tossed the amulet toward his sibling allowing the silver and wolfsbane to touch her skin. Burning pain erupted across her flesh as the monster howled in agony convulsing into a complete shock as the magical charm spread through her body. Within seconds, Stiles's sister collapsed as her body slowly returned to its normal human form.

Crying tears of anguish, the brown haired boy slowly touched Allison who flinched. Gently lifting her up, he wiped away the tears from her face as the poor girl sobbed into his shoulder.

"It's okay Allison," he comforted embracing her tight. "I'm here now."

"Stiles…" she whimpered. "It was awful! They're making me turn into that…thing! Help me, please!"

Tugging on the manacles, he found that none of the restraints would budge. Kicking at it with his shoes, he found that nothing worked on freeing his sister.

"We have to get you out of here before…"

Loud, guttural growls came from behind the door of the boiler room. Without warning, the door busted open as the Melissa McCall in her skin-walker form shot through the doorway. Allison screamed as Stiles nervously pointed his silver dagger at the monster. The beast leaped forcing the teen to shut his eyes.

Out of nowhere, a loud shot rang out. Stiles quickly opened his eyes to see a gaping bullet wound through the skin-walker's chest. A few more rounds pierced through the beast's body. Two one the shoulder and one through the head as small black tendrils spread like wildfire through the monster's body instantly killing her. Shifting back to her human form, Melissa McCall hit the floor with a thud. Her body laid naked and bloody from the many silver bullet wounds she received.

Stiles lifted his eyes to see the culprit who killed the wild animal. Standing at the end of the broken doorway was Laura Hale holding a shotgun. She brought the smoking barrel to her lips and blew away the vapors.

"When did you learn to go all Sarah Connor?" Stiles asked.

"Thank Derek," grinned the older woman. "My father taught me how to hunt and fish and how to take out a skin-walker with a shotgun. Now move so I can blow away the chains holding your sister."

Before Stiles can protest, Laura blasted the edge of the floor holding the restraints. Allison lifted the heavy chains and carried it with her.

"You'll have to find a locksmith to get the manacles off," the older woman advised.

The trio raced out of the maintenance room and up the stairs as the lacrosse game was reaching the half time play.

* * *

With a score of 17 to 3, it seemed that there was no chance that the opposing team would be victorious but the visiting school managed to be resilient. Already, Scott took out a few more players of during the game as the horn signaled for the break in between. Victoria stood up nervously searching for Stiles who had not returned for over half an hour. Digging into her purse, she began calling her husband.

"I know Chris but I have a feeling that something bad is about happen," she told her husband.

Sheriff Argent remained supportive and agreed to drive over. "I'll have myself and a few of my squad check out the game. Not to worry, I'm sure it's only nervous knots with everything that's been occurring."

"And Stiles vanished as well," Victoria continued. "I'm mean it's been forty five minutes. How long does it take him to get a cell phone from the car?"

"He probably is chatting with some girl…I mean boy in the parking lot," her husband reassured her from the receiver. "It's nothing to be worried about."

"You're probably right," the Argent matriarch sighed. "Stiles does get distracted easily. I hope he and Danny patch things up."

"Are those two on the outs?" Sheriff Argent asked.

"Apparently so," relied Victoria. "They're not on speaking terms right now."

"It's high school, honey," explained the sheriff. "One minute the kids like each other. The next minute they're no longer friends."

"Yeah, I'm sure they're work it out," Victoria nodded.

Suddenly the lights went pitch black. Shadowed faces turned behind the stands to see the fixtures not working. The announcement box reassured them that it was a temporary delay as the lights came back on. Then without warning, screams reverberated through the bleachers. Out on the field a hulking black beast raced through the terrified players. Like a strange blur, the animal swiped at a few players with a sharp claw wounded several of them. Chaos erupted.

"Victoria!" Sheriff Argent shouted through the cell phone. "What's happening down there?

He could hear the frightened screams echoing from the other end of the line. The Argent matriarch ignored her husband as she the rest of the crowd ran for cover.


	20. Chapter 20

The rattle of Allison's chains struck the floor as the extra weight made it impossible for her to run. Stiles attempted to assist his sister but the manacles only ended up slowing them down.

"Damn! Where's a locksmith when you need one?" He commented.

"I'm sorry Stiles," Allison whimpered. "It's my fault for letting Scott bite me."

The hazel eyed teen hugged his sister. "No, it's not. We're going to find a way to cure you, I promise."

"Shhh," Laura signaled. "I hear Derek and Peter still battling it out."

She peeked around the corner of the hallway to see the two supernatural creatures locked in combat in the main corridor. Wrestling for control, Derek managed to gain the upper hand as he shoved the skin-walker Peter against the set of school windows shattering the glass. Feeling defeated, the evil shaman retreated into the night leaving a battered and bruised Spirit Wolf slowly limping toward his friends.

Laura smiled as the trio slowly made their way toward Derek. Seeing the large wolf in the hallway, Allison hesitated before Stiles held her sister close and kissed her head.

"Don't worry," Stiles reassured her. "That big doggie is my friend. He's the good one."

Allison trusted his judgment as he looked in the kind golden eyes of the large animal and gradually approached the Spirit Wolf. Unexpectedly, a searing pain crossed Stile's temple. Clutching his head, he could feel the evil coming.

Sensing her brother's anguish, Allison grabbed his arm. "Stiles, what's the matter?"

"Allison, get out of the way!" He shouted.

Ferocity and rage filled the room as an enormous black beast crashed through the broken window. Landing on all fours, the skin-walker bared its canine fangs and red eyes focusing all of its attention on Allison.

"It's Scott!" She cried.

Yanking his sister toward the other side of the hallway, the pair attempted to race toward the doors behind them but the skin-walker leaped ahead of them blockading the door. Scott heard the shuffle of a bullets being inserted into a rife as Laura raised her shotgun and targeted the beast.

"Scott! Allison! Get down!" Laura yelled. The two cowered to the floor.

She fired the first around but the skin-walker dodged the silver bullet hitting the ceiling. The second shot erupted which Scott easily avoided as it hit the corner lockers. The supernatural monster roared in anger as heard the cocking of the shotgun. Determined not to give the older woman a chance to shoot, he launched himself at Laura grabbing the weapon with his large claw and knocking the woman down.

Tossing the arsenal to side, he extended his razor sharp talons and brought his hand down on the Aeiwa shamaness. Stiles watched helplessly as the Scott McCall monster pierced the chest of Laura Hale.

"NOOOOOOO!" The teen screamed.

Grabbing the silver dagger from his pocket, he raced behind the skin-walker, climbed the animal's back, and ran the blade down the spine of the creature. Scott howled in pain as the dagger's poison began to run the venom through the monster's black veins. Digging a claw into arm of the hazel eyed teen, Scott tossed Stiles off his back sending him crashing toward the wall as he turned to open his jaws to chomp down and eliminate the young man.

With his lupine snout extended, the skin-walker growled as he prepared to tear apart the unarmed teenager. Hunkering down on his hind legs, Scott started to leap. Stiles shut his eyes before a flash of white and gray sped through propelling the black mass toward the other end of the hallway. Streaks of crimson stained the tiled school floor as both the wounded Spirit Wolf and damaged skin-walker battled to the death.

Derek gripped the evil Scott's hairy arm with his teeth but this only infuriated the skin-walker. Raking a sharp claw through the guardian's face it drew several lines of blood across the aningan's snout forcing the lupine warrior to release him. Weakened, the Spirit Wolf stumbled giving his enemy time to reorganize and plan his next attack. Pushing Derek with his large paws, the monstrous Scott raked his razor, sharp talons across the chest of the aningan before throwing him hard across the row of metal lockers down the corridor. Smashing into the metal, the Spirit Wolf collapsed unconscious.

Stiles scrambled to his feet as he observed Scott now targeting him. Canine teeth dripped with saliva as red eyes sneered at him with fury. Raising his back to display the nasty stab wound of the silver dagger embedded in his spine, the skin-walker lunged at the young man. Stiles screamed.

"HEY SCOTT!"

The skin-walker turned to see Allison struggling to lift her hands which were weighted by the heavy manacles. In her hand was Laura's shotgun still full of leftover ammo. Cocking the gun, she aimed it at the monster.

"GO TO HELL!" The Argent sibling screamed.

The beast leaped at her but she fired four rounds. Each of which made contact with the skin-walker's body. The first silver bullet struck his shoulder. The second hit his chest. The third entered his stomach. Yet it was the last that finished the job by blowing a hole in the middle of his head. Blood poured of every gaping wound as the skin-walker fell back against the cold tile convulsing and shaking as the venom spread toward every area of his body. The combination of the silver dagger added with the silver bullets finally brought down the beast.

Witnessing the bloodied, naked body of a lifeless Scott McCall, Allison slowly fell to the floor. Dropping the empty shotgun, she began to sob as Stiles crawled over to his sister to comfort her.

Derek, naked and caked in blood, stumbled into the hallway. Limping over to his dying offspring, he picked up his daughter as sirens screeched from the outside. Gazing at Laura, the old woman smiled as a huge crimson stain formed on her dress.

"Laura…" Derek whispered. Tears filled his eyes. "I'm sorry…"

The old woman put a finger to his lips. "Shhh, it's okay, Daddy. It was supposed to happen this way. Tell Adrian, he's the new shaman now." Her eyes began to close. "I love you…Daddy…" Then she was gone.

The Spirit Wolf kissed her forehead as he howled in anguish. Carrying her body across the hallway, he passed by Stiles who held his sister close.

"Derek! You have to get out here!" Stiles advised. "My dad is here and so are the police! They'll wonder about all the dead bodies!"

"What about you?" The aningan asked.

"Don't worry about me! I'll think of something!" Stiles reassured him. "Now go!"

With the body of Laura Hale in his hands, Derek entered the emergency exit outside and vanished into the night shadows. The doors ripped opened to reveal flashlights in the darkness. Sheriff Argent raced through the corridor to see the blood splattered body of Scott McCall and his two children crouched in fear.

"Allison?" Sheriff Argent's eyes began to tear up.

"Daddy!" Stiles's sister cried out.

The Beacon Hills High law enforcement officer embraced his daughter as the chains still clung to her body. He then reached over to Stiles and held him tight as well.

It seems things were going to be fine.

Half an hour later, a huge crowd gathered outside of the Beacon Hill High School. Reporters waited outside hoping to interview the parties involved but were met with protestations by the sheriff's department. Victoria Argent waited patiently outside upon the news that both her children had been found. The front entrance opened to reveal a dirty, unchained Allison Argent stepping outside to face the onlookers.

"Allison!" Victoria called out in tears.

"Mom!" Her daughter cried out. Running toward the woman her birthed her, she held her mother close refusing to let go.

Stiles came out escorted by his father as they made their way past the slew of reporters bombarding them with questions. Heading toward the ambulance, Sheriff Argent wanted to make sure his son was unharmed.

"Are you sure you don't need the EMT to check you?" Sheriff Argent asked.

"Dad, I'm fine." The teen reassured him. "Except for getting beat up, I'm my old, sarcastic self."

"Stiles, now remember, don't talk to the reporters," his father advised. "And don't say anything. I'm bringing in the best lawyers in to prove that Scott McCall and his mother had something to do with your sister's abduction."

"Is there anything else?" Stiles sounded miffed.

"Yeah, one more thing," noted the sheriff. He pulled his son close and embraced him tight. Stroking his bald spot, he patted the hazel eye teen on the back. "I'm so proud of you."

Stiles could feel himself tearing up. He could not believe his father had admitted that to him. An overwhelming joy washed over him.

"Thanks Dad," the brown haired lad smiled.

"Now I'm having a squad car escort you, your sister, and mother home," said Sheriff Argent. "This is going to be a happy homecoming."

Stiles could not agree more.

* * *

After the next few days, it seemed things in the town of Beacon Hills started getting back to the way things were. Less and less, the reporters began to shift their attention from the alleged kidnappers Scott and Melissa McCall to more newsworthy stories like covering the latest Walmart and Costco store openings. Thanks in part of Adrian Harris's quick thinking, he managed to leave an anonymous tip to the sheriff's department to where the McCalls were staying at. Sheriff Argent and his team raided an abandoned warehouse where they found scraps of bloody clothing and personal items belonging to their victims like Jackson Whittemore.

In addition, Sheriff Argent discovered a rap sheet linking Scott and his mother to several mysterious killings from the east coast. Determining that the duo were a mother and son serial killing team, the media bought the story and considered the case closed. Even Allison corroborated with her interpretation of her abduction as the motive behind these two disturbed individuals. Her peers believed her harrowing survival story which only increased her popularity points even more. In either case, it seemed that things were returning to normal.

Coincidentally, the strange beast witnessed during the half time hour of the lacrosse game seemed to be ignored by all the residents of Beacon Hills. Believing the wild animal had lost its way out of the woods, the townsfolk theorized that it went back to home in the forest leaving a few skeptics to discuss the matter on several paranormal forums. Only a few like Stiles, Danny, Allison, and even Adrian Harris knew the real truth but none were saying anything.

Meanwhile, Stiles had refused to visit the Aeiwa after Laura's death hoping to give Derek and the tribe some space while they mourn. The older woman had become a hero saving the life of him and his sister and he wanted to honor her memory by wearing the silver pendant that she gave him. Daydreaming in class, Stiles almost did hear his history teacher Mr. Harris ask him a question.

"Mr. Argent, can you tell me what year the Baltimore and Ohio railroad network first opening a line across the United States?"

Stiles suddenly woke up. "Um…1492, Columbus sailed the ocean blue?"

As usual, the class laughed.

"Not quite, Mr. Argent." Adrian Harris grinned. "See me again after class."

Stiles sighed as he waited for class to end. The bell rang leaving him to pick up his things and head toward the history teacher's desk."

"Wazzup!" Stiles greeted.

"This!" Adrian pulled a paper from his desk and handed it to the brown haired teen. On top of the young's man's test paper was the letter A.

"An A?" The hazel eyed lad exclaimed. "Awesome!"

Adrian Harris smiled. "Well you deserve it. You're finally applying yourself. By the way, how is that project coming along."

Stiles hesitated. "About that…I haven't really started writing it. In light of the tragedy, I kind of put off visiting the reservation."

"The Aeiwa miss you," the history teacher nodded. "You're an honorary member now so you know you always have a second place to call home. As the new shaman…"

"How's Derek?" Stiles wondered.

Adrian sighed. "Derek is…Derek. He's not a man to show his feelings. Though I know he's hurting after losing Laura. She was his only child so I can't imagine what that feels like. You're happy to know that we buried her in the mountains. She always wanted loved it there."

"And Peter Hale?" He inquired with concern. "Has anyone seen him?"

"I doubt Peter will show his face in this town," Adrian shrugged. "His pack has been defeated so he's now a lone, helpless skin-walker. He's probably left Beacon Hills."

"Is there anything I do to help?" Stiles offered. "I mean to continue with this project?"

"Yes," replied the history teacher. "You could visit more often. I'm sure the Spirit Wolf could use a friend."

Stiles bade goodbye to Adrian as he headed out to class. Walking across the hallway, he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned around to see Danny marching behind him.

"Hey," the brown haired teen greeted the lacrosse goalie.

"Stiles, I just wanted to apologize," said Danny.

"No Danny, I'm the one who was being an ass," replied the hazel eyed young man. "I should be the one saying sorry."

"Accepted," the Hawaiian teen responded without hesitation. "How are you holding up with everything that's happened?"

"I'm…adjusting," nodded Stiles. "Allison seems to be doing much better after the ordeal. She's no longer a skin-walker and she's getting back into the social scene like nothing happening. I guess ignorance is bliss."

"And…you…and Derek?" Danny had to ask.

Stiles shook his head. "There never is or ever will be a me and Derek."

The Hawaiian teen smiled. "Good." Pulling the brown haired lad close, he pressed his mouth to the young man and displayed his affection. "I now have you all to myself. I love you Stiles."

Stiles returned his devotion. "I love you too, Danny boy."

Arms embraced one another as their lips connected. Admiration, kindness, and sympathy surrounded them as they gave in to their feelings. Then the sound of a shrill whistle interrupted their union.

"Mr. Mahealani and Mr. Argent!" Principal Lahey tapped his foot. "There is a time and place for PDA! Please get to class."

"Right Mr. Lahey!" Both boys giggled in unison.

Holding hands, the pair raced down the hallway.


	21. Chapter 21

Stiles sat the edge of the hospital bed waiting for the treatment to being. It had been one week since his last radiation therapy and his mom was there to support him through this process. Swinging his legs back and forth, the teen made a list of excuses to say to Derek when he saw him. Since defeating Scott McCall, he had not set foot on the reservation making it an awkward moment for the both of them. Small footsteps echoed in the hall as the medical professional entered the room.

Victoria Argent peeked up from the magazine she had been reading. "Dr. Deaton, you're back!"

The African American physician shook his mother's hand as he went to examine Stiles. Inwardly, the teenager's heart sunk not seeing the Spirit Wolf in the room with him.

"Where's Dr. Hale?" Stiles asked politely.

"Dr. Hale is taking a leave of absence," answered Dr. Deaton. "Though I'm glad that he took care of you while I was in Miami. I'll be continuing your radiation treatments from now on." He pulled out Stiles's chart. "Now from the results of your last CT scan, it looks like the cancer cells are retreating. This is good news since we're trying to prevent the tumor from continuing to metastasize."

"This is good news!" Victoria exclaimed.

"Now we'll get you over to the IMRT and start the treatment," suggested Dr. Deaton.

Stiles accompanied the doctor to the radiology department. Performing the same routine, the young man had the face mask on as the device scanned his brain and attacked the cancer cells head on. As usual, he drifted off into sleep.

* * *

_From the cavern of the roaring fire, Stiles examined the primitive drawings on the walls. Peter Hale, coated in animal blood, as usual muttered some incantation as large shadows darted around him. Then the same sinister voice spoke._

_"Have…you…succeeded…in…finding…me…my…sacrifice…"_

_"No, Great Kalona!" Peter apologized. "My pack was murdered by the aningan and his allies!"_

_"Then…you…must…not…wait…Bring…me…my…perfect…human…"_

_"I shall!"_

_"The…blood…moon…is…soon…All…must…happen…in…time…Do…not…fail…me…"_

_"I won't!" Peter vowed. Bowing down, he made a few symbols in the sand._

_"Soon…I…shall…be…free…"_

_"And I will be powerful! Unstoppable!" Peter cackled._

_"And…so…you…shall…Now…find…me…my…sacrifice…"_

_"Yes, Lord Ravenmocker," replied the skin-walker._

_The scene then changed. In place of the central fire stood the large, ivory tree with yellow, purple flowers and long roots surrounded by silver. A gentle tap on his shoulder signaled for his attention. Stiles shifted behind him to see an older woman in tribal clothes holding a small cup._

_"Laura?"_

_"Hello Stiles Argent," the old woman smiled. "Long time no see."_

_Tears filled his eyes as the former shamaness went to embrace him. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."_

_Laura held him close patting his back for comfort. "There. There. It's no one's fault." Clutching his face, she looked up at him and laughed. "It was my time. Death called for me and I answered. I am proud to go out in the manner that I did."_

_"Brave and resourceful."_

_Stiles turned to see the moon goddess Hanwi approach him. Long dark hair cascaded down her back as the Native American deity caressed his face for warmth._

_"Things happen for reason, Stiles Argent," said Hanwi. "Always believe that."_

_Laura held up the cup to Stiles. "Drink?"_

_Not wanting to be rude, the young man gripped the container and sipped. An awful bitter flavor attacked his taste buds._

_"Awww man! This tastes like feet!"_

_"Please finish it," grinned the old woman._

_Stiles felt like gagging. No way was he going to drink this concoction._

_"It would considered rude not accept a drink from your host," replied Hanwi._

_He sipped a little before his face cringed. "What is this?"_

_"An herbal tea," explained Laura. "A mixture of silver, aconite, and white oak ash."_

_Stiles's eyes widened. "This is poison to werewolves! Are you trying to kill me?"_

_Hanwi laughed. "No, Stiles Argent. Yes, it's toxic to Spirit Wolves and skin-walkers but it has healing properties for humans. It'll help with your brain cancer."_

_"Will it completely cure me?" Stiles inquired with hope._

_"That is not for me to decide but it will ease the pain," responded the moon goddess._

_"Bottoms up!" The hazel eyed teen commented. Closing his nose, he gulped the tea in one swallow. Then the horrid taste popped in his mouth the moment he released his nostrils. He stuck his tongue out in disgust that filled with dark, ashy coloring. "Oh, I think I'm going to be sick." He clutched his stomach._

_"Then it's working," smiled Laura._

_Touching Stile's face, the old woman kissed him on the cheek. "Do not let my father wander through life alone. You are his chosen mate. Go to him."_

_"His mate?" Stiles's eyes widened. "I hardly even know the guy."_

_"Sometimes destined lovers meet when you least expect them to," said Hanwi. "Do not deny yourself this opportunity."_

_"I thought Derek already had a mate," noted Stiles to the older woman. "Your mother Kate?"_

_"My parents loved each other very much," Laura informed him. "But even humans cannot outlive an immortal. He has spent years honoring her passing. It's time to move on."_

_"How do you even know if he even likes me?" Sties asked._

_The former shamaness smiled. "I assure you he does. Spirit Wolves have an innate ability to love humans regardless of gender. It is in their nature. Don't deny it. Accept it and embrace him."_

_"I don't think I can," the young man whispered._

_"You will," nodded the old woman. "My mother did and she never had any regrets. Now I finally get to join her in the afterlife."_

_"Go to him Stiles…Go to him…"_

_Both women vanished as he felt his body starting to awaken._

* * *

"Treatment is done," Dr. Deaton announced. "How do you feel Stiles?"

A rumble in his tummy informed him otherwise. "I think I'm going to be sick!"

The physician assisted the young man into the bathroom where he vomited his treatment in the toilet.

Returning to his room, Stiles noticed his mother and boyfriend Danny conversing by the window. The doctor helped the young man into bed as the Hawaiian teen leaned close for quick smooch.

"Careful!" Stiles protested. "I just regurgitated my breakfast. I still need to pop in a breath mint."

"I'll live," purred Danny pressing his lips against Stiles. "Can I say that you cutest cancer patient I ever met?"

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Mahealani," smiled the hazel eyed teen.

Victoria Argent cleared her throat to get her son's attention. "Though I'm enjoying this lovey dovey exchange, I was wondering, Stiles, if your boyfriend wouldn't mind joining us dinner this weekend?"

"I'd love to," answered the Hawaiian teen excitedly.

"Good. Dinner will be at seven on Saturday." Victoria informed him. "Now that we've done the meet the parents thing, I'll leave you two to continue your goo goo eyes at each other." She then waved a finger. "But nothing else, understand?"

"It's too late Mom! I'm pregnant and Danny's the baby daddy!" Stiles teased.

The Argent matriarch playfully slapped her son's shaved head. "Oh you!"

She let out a giggle as she began to leave the room along with Dr. Deaton. Peeking one more time on Stiles, Victoria made a comment to her son.

"By the way, honey, I'm glad you're doing better," his mother complimented him.

"So am I, Mom." Stiles replied watching her leave.

Left alone with his boyfriend, Stiles and Danny held each other close grateful that the horror was behind them.

* * *

Due to his treatment, Stiles was given permission to stay home the next two days to recuperate from the radiation therapy to which the young man took full advantage of by laying on the couch munching on junk food and watching a SpongeBob SquarePants marathon on television. Dressed in his Star Wars pajamas, he spilled some Pepsi on his shirt leaving him soaking wet and sticky.

"Aww man!" He began wiping himself.

Opting to change, he walked up the stairs to his room and raided his closet for a clean shirt. His eyes suddenly wandered to the something flimsy and stained collecting dust in the corner of the compartment. Reaching for the torn material, the teen shook it to see the crimson bullet hole where the arm of the Spirit Wolf should have been.

Then he remembered. It was the long sleeve shirt that Derek wore that night he was shot by the Scott's mother. The same night that Adrian Harris saved his life from the silver poisoning and revealed to his boyfriend the existence of supernatural creatures. Putting the shredded clothing to his nose, the hazel eyed lad inhaled the masculine scent.

Memories came flooding back to him. The way Derek's natural musk reminded him of Aramis and how the Spirit Wolf personified the strong, male warrior archetype. Then he closed his eyes recalling the way the green eyed man's lips felt. Soft, gentle skin caressed his own electrifying an aching need to be touched. Strong hands held him close offering shelter and protection. Something Stiles had not experience in a long time. The brown haired teen hated to admit it. He missed Derek Hale.

Sprinting toward the bathroom, Stiles showered and brushed before racing back to his bedroom to put on a clean t-shirt, zipped up hoodie, and jeans. Slipping on pair of sneakers, he grabbed the keys to his father's Lexus and pulled out of the driveway.

Come hell or high water, he was going to the reservation. His only thoughts focused on Derek. The only problem was what he was going to say when he got there.


	22. Chapter 22

Stiles remembered the hidden rural road leading to the Aeiwa reservation. Crossing off the main highway and turning left at the half moon shaped rock, he sped the Lexus down the bumpy path finally driving toward the lake where the cabins and trailers were located at. Parking near the main cabin with a generator, he noticed Adrian Harris dressed in his Native American attire coming over to greet the young man.

"Stiles Argent!" Adrian welcomed him with open arms. "You finally came!"

"I promise I would," replied the hazel eyed teen. "Plus, you still have me on this extra credit project and I can't afford to repeat history in summer school."

"Good point," nodded his teacher.

"So how do you like being the new shaman of the tribe?" Stiles asked.

"I won't lie. It's a lot of work but it's an important responsibility," answered Adrian. "Derek has been very supportive and very compromising."

"Compromising?" The brown haired teen inquired. "How?"

"Come inside the cabin and see for yourself," said the history teacher.

Stiles followed the new shaman inside. The interior of the cabin still looked the same as when Laura use to inhabit the place with Native American folk art, sculptures, and paintings decorating the walls but then his eyes directed his attention toward the flat screen television set and laptop computer on the desk by the window.

"Derek is letting the Aeiwa have technology?" Stiles remarked. "That is progressive of him."

"Well he did not want to change the tribe too much from their traditions," explained Peter. "He still wants them to retain their simple way of life so slowly he's introducing them to modern conveniences to them. You and Laura certainly influenced his decision in that. He figured he was being a hypocrite by driving around in a jeep and using modern technology outside of the reservation so he's making up for lost time by moving the Aeiwa into the future."

"If you don't mind me asking, where is Derek?" Deep down the young man wanted to know.

"He's up by the hot springs near the mountains," said Adrian. "There's an underground volcano nearby that has few minor eruptions every so often. The magna heats the earth below producing a warm temperature for the mountain springs. It's like a having your own natural Jacuzzi. Derek goes up there every so often to meditate."

"How do I get up there?" Stiles wondered.

"It's not something I suggest," explained the history teacher. "First it's a fifteen minute hike up a treacherous trail that ramps up near our farming area of the reservation. Then you have to rock climb a steep hill to get to the top. Only an experienced mountain climber or Spirit Wolf has the skills to take on such a feat. It's far too dangerous. It's better for you to wait until Derek returns."

His mind continued to be inquisitive. "How long will that be?"

"Days, weeks, months. Who knows?" Adrian responded. "At least you won't lose your life over it."

The hazel eyed teen frowned. "Um…Mr. Harris…there are a couple questions I had regarding the Aeiwa folklore. I was wondering if you could go over again the relationship between Wi and Hanwi but with the masks depicting their influence over the world."

"Sure," the history teacher offered. Pushing his glasses back, he went over to the wall of mask. "Damn, I guess Wi's fox mask is in the other room buried under the trunk of other artwork Laura left behind. Stay here, Stiles, while it'll take a few minutes to search for it." He disappeared into the other room.

Ten minutes later, Adrian Harris emerged carrying the fox mask to see Stiles gone and the front door open. He rubbed his forehead at his foolishness.

"Oh no! Derek is going to be pissed!"

* * *

Like Adrian had said, he found the beginning of the steep climb up the hill toward the mountain near the crop fields of the reservation. Stiles hiked up the rocky path as the hot sun beat down on him causing him to sweat through his layers of clothes. Cursing himself for wearing the zipped up hoodie, he removed the sweatshirt and tied it around his waist. Dry thirst raked his tongue as he searched for the closest water source but found himself surrounded by only weeds, strange leaves, and bushes. Coming near the edge his path, he saw the huge dirt, rocky mountain and resolved to scale it.

Pressing his foot against a hard stone embedded in the dirt, he clasped another thick rock and pushed himself up. Successfully, he managed to reach the first level allowing his confidence to build so he could continue. Adjusting his foot on the second rock, he grabbed the next stone above him and pulled him up. Once again he proved to be successful reaching the second level. Now self-assured of his skills, he repeated each cycle of foot placement and grabbing an available stone brace and propelling himself forward. He did this several times until he elevated much higher than he anticipated.

Moving his foot to an open stone ledge, he reached for available rock with his right hand before the foundation began to crack causing his fingers to slip. Scrambling quickly to reach for the next free stone, he missed by a few inches and felt his body start to tumble away from the dirt mountain. Screaming his body descended…

Until strong hand gripped his wrist as his feet dangled helplessly below. Feeling himself being pulled up, Stiles watched his body go over the edge of the rocky mountain only to have his eyes face an furious Derek Hale. Virile handsomeness directed his rage toward him as the young man realized that the Spirit Wolf was completely naked and not too happy to see him.

"What the hell do you think you were doing?" Derek hissed. Dropping Stiles safely on the dirt ground, his hazel eyes focused on the amazing calf muscles of the aningan.

"Almost getting myself killed," commented Stiles. "Thanks Derek."

"Getting yourself killed is right!" He sneered. "You're lucky I saved your neck or your body would've been splattered twenty feet below!"

"Derek…I…" Stiles managed to say.

Sensing something wrong with the boy, Derek noticed his pale skin and cracked lips. "My God! You're dehydrated!" Picking up the young man, the Spirit Wolf carried him away from the edge of the mountain and down a wooded area where a waterfall drifted toward a small river.

Nuzzling his face toward the muscular man's bare chest, Stiles felt quite at home as he felt Derek slowly lower him into the cool liquid soaking his clothes. Washing the sweat from his face, the aningan cupped his hands and brought the water toward the brown haired teen's cracked lips.

"Drink," Derek instructed. "It's fresh water. It'll keep you hydrated."

Stiles swallowed every last drop from which felt wonderful down his throat. Gradually, he began to feel better as he managed to stand up soaked in his own clothes.

"Now you're soaking wet," laughed the aningan. "Come on, let's get you out of those wet things and into something warm so you won't catch a cold."

The young man did not protest feeling comfortable stripping off his garments in front of him. Staring at his well-formed posterior, Stiles secretly complimented him on his derriere as the Spirit Wolf led him past the waterfall to a steaming pool. Jumping in first, Derek made a loud splash as his head bobbed out and turned his attention toward Stiles.

"Come on in," he said. "The water's fine."

Nervously, Stiles dipped his toe in the water. The pool seemed warm enough. Annoyed, Derek grabbed his ankle reeling the teenager in performing a belly flop in the process. Nice warm heat filled his body as Stiles pulled his head up to see his clothes drying on a rock nearby. Shifting his focus, he noticed a large mass swimming toward him. The young man gulped.

"So what do you think?" Derek asked pushing his head up near the edge of the warm pool.

"Definitely, a hot spring. An amazing hot spring." This was all Stiles could see as he shied away from the hunky, naked man.

Learning close, Derek caressed his face. "You don't have to pretend with me."

"Derek…I…" Stiles began to say.

Placing a finger on his lips, Derek crushed his mouth to his. The remembrance of the electrical surge between them reignited. Holding Stiles close, every sensation poured into the kiss including the sacred emotions both wanted to say. Devotion. Connection. Admiration. Kindness. Affection. Love.

Together they finally explored every possibility.

* * *

An hour passed by quickly. Stiles blushed, jumped out of the pool, and gathered his clothes that now were dry. With his head cradled into his folded arms, the Spirit Wolf observed the young man dress rapidly in the daylight.

"You okay?" Derek asked.

Stiles nodded without a word as he tied his sneakers. "Sorry, I'm not use to this morning-after-walk-of-shame deal."

Derek sighed. "You're not feeling guilty about what just happened?"

Stiles shook his head. "I've got a lot on my plate. Losing my V-card wasn't one of them."

The aningan clutched his temple. "What did I do? Damn! I royally screwed up! I wasn't supposed to take advantage of a teenager!"

Racing over, Stiles grabbed his face. "Listen, Derek. Both of us wanted it to happen. I don't regret anything so there's nothing to feel guilty about. I'm trying to figure out things right now in my life so that's where my head is at."

"Yeah but I'm the adult here so I've should've known better!" The Spirit Wolf snarled.

"Well you're past the adult phase. We're talking ancient," noted Stiles. "There's nothing to feel guilty about. I mean what's there to feel guilty about? Unless…Oh God!"

"No Stiles," Derek clucked. "I don't have any diseases. Spirit Wolves are immune to human illnesses including STD's, HIV, and everything else. Plus, I've only been with one person in my life."

"Kate?" The young man brought back his mate's name.

"Yes Kate," sighed the aningan. "Laura's mother was a human that I loved. Watching her succumb to breast cancer was the most difficult for me. That is why I became a doctor specializing in cancer treatments. I wanted to help others not go through the same suffering as Kate did."

"Is that why you never chose another mate?" Stiles probed. "Because you loved her too much?"

"Being immortal and a human guardian is difficult for any mate to understand," answered Derek. "It's a role that comes up with a price. Kate understood and waited patiently by my side. I have not found another who is willing to go through the same thing."

"Maybe you should give another mate a chance," the hazel eyed man suggested.

"It's not that easy," the Spirit Wolf replied sadly. "Sometimes the most difficult decisions are the hardest ones to make."

"Perhaps if you let the other person decide what is best, then is a possible resolution to everything." Stiles responded.

Derek flinched. "You sound like a broken record."

"What's a record?"

"Stiles!"

The teen raised his eyebrows. "No seriously what's a record?" He pondered for a moment. "Oh you mean that vinyl thingy you guys used during the olden days!"

"Stiles!" Derek clucked. "Let's get you home. This time we're taking the safe shortcut."

He got out of the hot spring giving the teen some extra eye candy and wonderful reminder of the moment that they shared.

"So this record player?" Stiles asked. "It was a popular thing during the olden times?"

"It was before music apps, downloads, CD's, eight tracks, and cassettes," said Derek.

"What's an eight track and what is a cassette?" The teenager inquired.

"Stiles!"

"No really? What are they?"

"I feel old."

"You should be," grinned Stiles. "You're ancient!"


	23. Chapter 23

Weekend dinner at the Argents appeared to going well. Danny ate every bite of Victoria Argent's grilled chicken breast and veggies before the matriarch came out from the kitchen with a platter of desert.

"Wala! My homemade tiramisu chocolate cake!" Stiles's mother announced.

Seated next on his right, Allison and Sheriff Argent applauded Victoria as she entered the dining room. On his left, his boyfriend seemed distance constantly playing with the peas on his plate.

Stiles tried to keep up appearances but still felt guilty about transpired between him and Derek. Digging a fork into his peas, he heard his father clear his throat.

"So Danny," Chris Argent asked the Hawaiian teen. "Has Coach Finstock selected a new captain for the lacrosse team?"

"Actually, he hasn't announced it yet but the inside scoop is that Principal Lahey's son Issac is going to be given the position." Danny revealed.

"That's wonderful!" Victoria added cutting into the cake. "Issac's mother is going to be ecstatic. Isn't that great, Styles?"

Nothing got past the Argent matriarch. Sensing her son's head elsewhere, she tried to get him to participate in the conversation.

Lifting his head from his plate, Stiles looked at everybody. "Oh yeah. It's good news."

"How's that extra credit project coming along?" Sheriff Argent asked.

Stiles's eyes widened and turned to Danny who dropped his fork on to the plate. The hazel eyed teen forgot to mention that he recently visited the reservation and Derek.

"It's…coming along just fine," he answered his father.

The sound of the doorbell grabbed everyone's attention.

"Who can that be at this hour?" Victoria wondered.

"I'll get it," offered the sheriff. "Everyone enjoy the dessert."

Disappearing into the living room, Danny shot an annoyed look at Stiles. "You didn't tell me you were continuing this project."

"Danny…I…" Stiles hoped to explain himself.

Sheriff Argent angrily marched into the dining room. Grasping a large manila envelope in his hand, he tossed several 8x11 photographs on to table in front of everyone.

"STILES! WHAT THE HELL ARE THESE?" Sheriff Argent screamed.

All one eyes focused on the standard black and white photographs. Taken by experienced photographer from a long distance lens, it showed Stiles and Derek kissing passionately in his black jeep in front of the Argent residence. Taken obviously after the young man's second cancer treatment, Stiles immediately turned ghostly pale.

"I…can explain," he defended.

Danny's eyes began to water. He was hurt. "How…why did you do this?"

Getting up from his chair, he began to walk away.

"Danny, wait!" Stiles grabbed for his wrist but the Hawaiian teen pulled away.

"No Stiles!" Danny spat. "I'm tired of your excuses! It's obvious what you want and it isn't me!" He sadly turned to the teen's parents. "Thank you for a lovely dinner. I'm sorry it had to end in his way." Dragging his heels, he saw himself out.

Watching him leave, Stiles felt like dying inside.

"Care to explain this?" Sheriff Argent demanded. Victoria and his sister said nothing.

"Dad," Stiles gulped before releasing a nervous smile. "You know when two men like each other a whole lot, they…"

"STILES!" His father screeched. "THIS IS NOT A JOKE!"

The brown haired lad recoiled.

"This is serious!" Sheriff Argent was beyond angry. "We're talking an adult taking advantage of a minor. This is illegal. I'm bringing statutory rape charges against him for contributing to the delinquency of a minor."

"Dad!" The teen protested. "It was nothing like that! It was consensual! Nobody forced me to do anything!"

Sheriff Argent pounded his fist on the table. "He took advantage of a child and that is against the law! He was your doctor for God's sake! Sorry Stiles but we're going to have to arrest him!"

Refusing to hear anymore, Stiles left the dining table and raced up to his room.

"Stiles! Get back here! We're not finished!"

Ignoring his father, the young teen slammed the door of his bedroom and curled up into bed. A few minutes later, a soft knock echoed from his door as his mother and sister led themselves in.

"Your father left the house," Victoria explained. "He's hellbent on bringing up charges on Dr. Hale. I can't begin to explain your feelings Stiles but I'm trying to understand." Sitting near the edge of his bed, she stroked his bald head as his sister spooned next to him.

"Mom…Alllison…I screwed up big time," he cried.

"You're a teenager," Allison agreed. "We're supposed screw up. It's a right of passage. I mean look at me. I didn't exactly choose the best potential boyfriend when I dated Scott McCall and look how that turned out."

Stiles managed a giggle through his tears. "What Dad said…it wasn't like that with Derek. We both knew what we were doing?"

Victoria kissed her son's cheek. "Even still, Dr. Hale took advantage of his authority and got involved with a minor. He'll probably lose his medical license because of it. You're young, Stiles, so it's understandable to be swayed by someone older. You can't let your feelings cloud your judgment on what is ethically right."

Stiles inhaled a breath. "Why is it that end up constantly hurting the ones I love? Danny? Derek? Dad?"

"You live and learn," smiled Victoria. Wiping away his tears, the two women embraced him close.

"How do I get through this?" The teen asked.

"We do what Argents normally have done for years," Victoria explained. "We get through it day by day."

* * *

The IMRT machine scanned the laser through Stiles's brain as the young teen prepared for another dosage of radiation treatment. It had been a few weeks since he had last heard from Derek. His father was determined to bring the statutory rape charges against the Spirit Wolf but had difficulty locating the man. It was like he had vanished completely. Instead, he issued a warrant out for his arrest.

Hearing the device perform its essential functions, the teen slowly shut his eyes as his body gave in to fatigue and sleep.

* * *

_Once again, Stiles stood in front of the white oak ash tree as he heard small footsteps creep up behind him. Turning his back, the moon goddess Hanwi held up the horrible tea and offered to him._

"_Your healing tea, Stiles Argent," she smiled._

"_You really trying to kill me," Stiles rolled his eyes. Taking the cup, he began to sip the contents._

"_Nonsense," clucked the moon goddess. "If I wanted to that, I'd make you watch an endless marathon of John and Kate, Plus 8."_

_Stiles twisted his lip to the Hanwi's remark._

"_What?" Hanwi snorted. "Can't a deity have a sense of humor? You humans take yourselves way too seriously."_

_Downing the rest of the horrible tea, Stiles made a sour face. "Blech! Are you sure this is supposed to heal my cancer?"_

_Hanwi folded her arms. "It's decreasing the brain tumor cancer cells, isn't it? Now don't look a gift horse in the mouth. I have something serious to discuss."_

_A rustle behind the tree stirred his attention. Bright light blinded him as a small fox shifted to reveal the sun god Wi standing in front of the young man._

"_My wife is right, Stiles Argent." The sun god explained. "The Ravenmocker's prison is starting to weaken. Soon he will be set free during the blood moon in a couple days and no human will be safe from his wrath."_

"_Can't you stop it from happening?" Stiles asked. "I mean you are all powerful gods and all."_

"_Unfortunately, ancient laws prevent us from intervening in human affairs," informed Wi. "That is why we need your help. Both you and Derek."_

"_Only the Spirit Wolf and a perfect human can stop Kalona," said Hanwi. "The Ravenmocker needs the perfect human sacrifice to be released but that same sacrifice can stop him."_

"_As foretold, on the fox and the wolf can battle the Ravenmocker," added Wi. "You are the fox, Stiles Argent, and the wolf is Derek Hale. Children of the sun and moon, united to defeat Kalona!"_

"_I don't think I can," replied Stiles. "I'm not brave enough."_

"_You are truly courageous Stiles Argent," smiled the moon goddess. "Much braver than you truly know."_

"_Unite as one!" Wi advised. "Sun and moon! Together! Forever!"_

_With that, they vanished._

_Stiles felt his body plunging._

* * *

"Stiles! Wake up. The treatment is over." Dr. Deaton gently patted him on the shoulder to get his attention. "How are you feeling?"

As usual, the rumbling in his stomach made him nauseated. Dr. Deaton assisted the young man into the bathroom to throw up.

* * *

Night owls few past the Derek in his Spirit Wolf form. Racing through the forest, he captured the scent. There was no denying it. Peter Hale was close by. Sprinting across fallen logs and steep cliffs, the aningan came across a clearing in the woods as the skin-walker's presence became much more defined through Derek's olfactory senses.

Pricking up his ears, he heard a rustle from the leaves and moved back quickly before a large, black mass descended from a tree branch. Peter Hale, in his full monstrous form, bared his canine teeth as he lunged at the Spirit Wolf.

With claws extended, Derek made the first strike but this time the skin-walker was quicker. Dodging out of the way of the aningan's sharp talons, the creature leaped mid-air into a backward somersault before landing on all fours. Kicking up the leaves on its hind legs, the skin-walker gritted its sharp teeth as its red eyes glowed in the darkness.

This time the Spirit Wolf would show no mercy. Lunging at the beast, Derek attempted to chomp down on the limb of his enemy immobilizing him but the skin-walker anticipated his movements. Once again, Peter sailed through the air bringing down a razor sharp talon across the aningan's back making contact. Raking a bloody gash through Derek's spine, the guardian warrior stumbled for a bit as his golden eyes began to blur among his vision.

From his perspective, the world began to spin making him lose full control of himself. Unable to hold on to his lupine transformation, he slowly began to shift back to his human form while his naked body collapsed on to the ground. Breathing heavily, he found himself unable to move as he watched helplessly Peter Hale turn human and gradually walk up to him.

"You healed must faster than I thought especially from our last battle," Peter smiled down at him.

"What…did you do…to me?" Derek muttered.

Extending his talons to reveal them wet and dripping, he waved his hand in front of the green eyed man.

"Kanima venom," cackled the skin-walker. "I still had some left. You really don't learn, do you ?"

"I'm going…to kill you," Derek grunted.

"I bet you say that to all the skin-walkers," the shaman teased. "Not to worry, I won't kill you yet. I still have use for you and your boyfriend."

The aningan twisted his lip.

"You both are going to sacrifice yourselves for the Ravenmocker!"


	24. Chapter 24

Lacrosse practice went well for the Hawaiian goalie as Danny practiced a few rounds with the newly announced team captain Issac Lahey. Taking advantage of having the field to themselves, the two teens worked a couple game strategies for their next tournament taking place in two weeks. Satisfied with the results, Issac assisted Danny with returning the equipment back to the school storage room.

"Good game, Danny," Issac complimented him.

"Thanks," replied the goalie. "I think Coach Finstock will be happy with a couple of the moves we thought up."

"I can't wait," noted the new captain. "So is your family coming to the next game?"

"Wouldn't miss it," answered Danny.

"And your boyfriend?"

Danny ignored his question. Helping Issac lift the some of the heavier units, they locked the storage before heading out. Then the lacrosse captain repeated his inquiry.

"You didn't answer my question," said Issac. "Is Stiles coming to the game?"

"Stiles and I are on the outs right now," Danny confessed. "I don't know."

Issac regretted his statement. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean…"

"Don't worry about it," the Hawaiian teen remarked. "We haven't resolved our issues."

"But you two seemed so happy," stated the lacrosse captain. "You're like the it couple at this school."

"It's complicated," Danny sighed. "Can we not talk about it right now?"

"Sure, sorry I brought it up," Issac apologized.

"Water under the bridge," said Danny. "All is forgiven."

Exiting out of the gym, Issac started to head to his car. "Are you leaving right now?"

"Actually, I want to shower before heading home," Danny responded.

Issac tossed him the keys. "Well lock up before you go. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye Issac!" The goalie waved to the new lacrosse captain. Walking down the hallway of the school, Danny headed into the locker room to shower.

Fifteen minutes later, the sound of the running water resonated around the empty locker room. Steam surrounded the stalls as the facility remained empty except for the single student attempting to get clean. Loud growls echoed in the area forcing Danny turn around mid-rinse to see if anyone was around.

"Hello? Anyone out there?" The teen called out. No response. Figuring it was the janitor cleaning the hallways outside, he returned to his shower.

Once down, the young man grabbed his clothes from locker and dressed. Picking up his duffle bag, he made his way to the entrance before large footprints marched behind him. Turning around, he saw a light brown haired man dressed in black grinning at him.

"Can I help you with something?" Danny asked nervously. There should not be anyone in the school except for him and the custodian.

The mysterious gentleman grinned. "Yes, you can Danny. You can be leverage to lure Stiles to me!"

Red eyes and canine teeth displayed in front of him. The Hawaiian teen screamed as the beast lunged at him.

* * *

Beacon Hills upscale, tourist area had several bars, restaurants, shops that catered to visitors every year. No retailer was more popular in the town than Morell Exclusives, a high end boutique that catered to the fashionable, trendy consumer. Victoria Argent managed the store making the owner happy with her fruitless efforts of increasing yearly sales. In fact, her increase of last year impressed her boss that she received an even higher upgrade in salary and position as a buyer for the company. The Argent matriarch could not be even more happier.

With the full, scarlet moon rising in the evening sky. Victoria prepared to close up shop as her daughter Allison sat on the lounge chair by the entrance to wait for her mother. Depositing the money into the safe, the red headed woman came out of the stock room holding a beautifully designed blouse.

"Allison, what do you think of this?" Victoria asked her daughter holding the blouse up for her to see.

"That's gorgeous, Mom!" Allison beamed. "What's the brand?"

"Betsey Johnson," answered her mother. "Do you like it? I'll buy it for you tomorrow."

"Could you, Mom?" Allison begged. "I have a pencil skirt that will go great with that!"

"Absolutely," Victoria nodded.

The popular teen hugged her mother to plant a kiss on her cheek. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!"

"Let me go into stock room and hold one in the back for you tomorrow." Victoria informed her. "I'll pull your size from the back."

Watching her mother disappear into the stockroom m, Allison grabbed a magazine from the table and began reading. Loud rumblings from the back startled her as she dropped the publication and raced to the back to see what happened. Allison called out to her mother hoping to get a reply.

"Mom? You okay?" She voiced her concern. No answer. "Mom?"

Quietly she crept toward the end of the stockroom to see a figure slumped over. Getting closer, she noticed the short, red hair lying face down not moving.

"MOM!" Allison yelled. Running toward her mother, she turned her over as a small cut appeared on the woman's brow. Pressing her head against her chest, the dark haired beauty listened carefully and heard a heartbeat. Her panic then turned to relief until fear settled in. Looking behind her shoulder she saw a red eyed man in black standing in front of her.

She screamed but large clawed hands gripped her by the throat and pressed her against the wall. Holding up her mother's cell phone, Peter Hale forced upon her his instructions.

"Call your father!"

Within ten minutes, Sheriff Argent's patrol car parked near the alley where the back entrance of the store. Cocking his gun, he carefully approached the open door and led himself inside. Dark shadows surrounded him as he searched the premises. Finding nothing, he called out for his wife first.

"Victoria?"

No response. Next, he tried his daughter.

"Allison?"

A whimper came from the corner of the room. Two figures concealed in the shadows moved. Aiming him gun at the two individuals, he issued an order.

"Don't move or I'll shoot!" Sheriff Argent instructed. The silhouettes remained in place. "Now come out where I can see you!"

Slowly, the two figures stepped into the light. Sheriff Argent's eyes widened to see a man dressed in black clutching a crying Allison by the throat. The law enforcement officer aimed his weapon at the stranger.

"Let her go!" Sheriff Argent demanded.

"Of course," Peter Hale grinned. Striking the back of the girls head with a hard fist, Allison fell down unconscious.

Without hesitation, Sheriff Argent fired. The first bullet struck Peter in the chest but did very little in effect. Red eyes followed him as the skin-walker skirted around the law enforcement officer. Encircling the room in a quick blur, the sheriff tried to get a better shot but found himself no match for the beast. Pulling the trigger a second time, the bullet missed Peter damaging the ceiling instead.

Enormous growls teased the law enforcement official before the beast grew bored and landed right in front of Sheriff Argent. The Argent patriarch finally saw the skin-walker for the first time. Black hair, red eyes and canine teeth howled at the man before he continuously opened fired at the monster. Four remaining bullets pierced his skin before falling off his flesh allowing the wound to heal completely.

Shocked by the creature's regenerative properties, the barrel of his gun emptied out leaving the skin-walker to grab the officer by the uniform and hurl him toward the wooden shelves at the far end of the store. Hitting the fixtures hard, Sheriff Argent collapsed to the floor knocked out cold by the impact.

Under the light of the blood moon, the skin-walker howled.

* * *

Lying on the couch munching on microwave popcorn, Stiles Argent flipped through several channels before settling on the local evening news. Glancing at the clock on the wall, he saw that it was 11:30 p.m. and that the rest of his family would be home soon. Turning up the volume, he listened to the news reporter discuss the phenomena of the blood moon.

_"Many of you might be looking out your window and seeing the full moon looking bright red tonight. Have no fear, it is a natural phenomenon that happens every few decades known as the Blood Moon or Scarlet Moon. Scientists say that the cause for this colorization is due to the moon's retrograde during orbit where the sun's rays reflect off the moon's surface given it the illusion of a reddish or dark orange tint…"_

Stiles threw popcorn at the television. "Liar! It's supernatural! Of course, no one's going to admit to that!"

Chewing on his snack, he heard his cell vibrate and picked it up. Seeing it was his father calling, he answered the line.

"Yeah Dad?"

"Guess again."

The sinister voice from the receiver caught his attention. Peter Hale had stolen his father's cell.

"What are you doing with my father's phone?" The hazel eyed teen demanded to know.

"There's someone who wishes to say hi," teased the skin-walker.

Loud noises shouted from the background that became too incoherent to hear. Finally, Sheriff Argent's voice became much more clearer through the receiver. He listened closely.

"Stiles! Don't listen to him! He's dangerous. He's…"

The voice stopped. Frightened for his father's life, the teen shot back at Peter.

"Don't you dare hurt him!" Stiles threatened.

"Oh, but I want too," cackled the skin-walker. "And they're not the only ones. I have the rest of your family with me for the reunion."

"Mom? Allison?"

The shaman was not playing around. He meant business.

"Not only them but both your loverboys!" The evil shaman laughed.

"Derek…Danny…" Stiles whispered. "Please, Peter, don't hurt them! I'll do anything want!"

"I know you will!" The skin-walker emphasized. "Do you know where the Sutcliffe gold mine is?"

"Yes…it's three miles from the reservation," replied Stiles. "But…it's been abandoned since all the gold was mined out of it."

"It makes a nice spot to perform a ritual," teased the evil man. "You have thirty minutes to get here! Come alone or I'll start gutting everyone you love with my bare claws."

The line went dead. Stiles raced upstairs to change into his casual clothes, grabbed the car keys, and take his father's Lexus to the destination.

He just hoped he was not too late.


	25. Chapter 25

The Sutcliffe Gold Mine had been abandoned for over a century ever since the forefathers of Beacon Hills mined all the gold during the Gold rush of the 1850's. Now a boarded up historical landmark, many tourists have visited site but never knew the true history that a Native American massacre took place nearly a century ago.

Under the light of the blood moon, Stiles Argent drove his father's Lexus near the entrance within twenty minutes of Peter Hale's request as the young teen got out of the car and got a flashlight from the vehicle's trunk. Noticing the opening no longer boarded up, he shined the flashlight through the darkened cavern and entered.

Through pitch blackness, he descended down the cave past bats and other rodents until he saw a light glowing from around the corner of the cavern. Following it, he crept near the corner and peeked in. From his vantage point, he recognized the primitive cave drawings from his dreams then turned to the roaring fire centered inside the chamber. Shooting his hazel eyes to the right of the cavern, he saw his family and Danny chained up against the stone wall unharmed before concentrating his focus on the tall, male figure at the head of the chamber.

Both hands of the gentleman had been bloodily impaled with silver daggers to a wooden crucifix fixated on the rocky foundation as he dark hair drooped forward unconscious. Slowly he lifted his face allowing the teen to identify the green eyes and handsome brooding features. Stiles gasped as soon as he recognized him.

"Derek…" he whispered. The piercing migraine hit again his forehead signaling that danger was near. As the pain subsided, the teen tried not to turn around.

"Welcome to my home, Stiles Argent."

A voice behind him signaled that he was in trouble. Twirling around, he saw Peter Hale standing in front of him with his clawed hands folded together.

"I love what you done with the place." Stiles rolled his eyes.

Pushing him forward, the teen followed. Allison spun her head to see her little brother and called out.

"Stiles!"

"Stiles! You shouldn't have come!" His mother cried. Small tears wet her eyes realizing how helpless they were at that moment.

"What is it you want? Money?" Sheriff Argent asked struggling with his manacles. "I'm sure we can work out a deal. No one has to get hurt."

The skin-walker cackled. "You humans are so predictable! Everything has to involve monetary value!"

"WHAT IS THAT YOU WANT?" Allison shouted. "LET US GO!"

"I like your sister, Stiles," smirked the evil shaman. "She has spunk. Maybe I can convince the Ravenmocker to make her my mate since my last one was killed."

"Okay you have me," Stiles reasoned with him. "Now let my family and Danny go!"

"Oh yes, Danny," the skin-walker taunted. He walked over to the Hawaiian teen and lifted his face with his claw. "The rival. Did you enjoy the nice photos I sent your family of you and Derek? It's amazing what a wide angle lens can do from far away."

"That was you?" Anger displayed on the teen's face.

Wicked laughter released from the skin-walker's lips. "For someone who is against technology for his tribe, he should really embrace it. Modern gadgets are so useful nowadays. Tell me, Stiles Argent, I wonder should win in this love triangle? Team Danny or Team Derek?"

The hazel eyed teen shrugged his shoulders. "I wouldn't exactly call it a love triangle. I mean it possibly could be since I got a werewolf on one side and if Danny suddenly started glittering in sunlight, then it would be considered a Stephanie Meyers cliché. However, that would mean that love would be involved…"

"SHUT YOUR MOUTH OR I'LL RIP IT OUT!" Peter growled.

Stiles gulped. "I'll stay quiet now."

"Here's what is going to happen, the ritual of the blood moon will take place in five minutes." Peter instructed. "To free Kalona, it must be done at midnight. But first I need some blood to start the ritual. One of a Spirit Wolf and one of the perfect human. Let's start with the aningan!"

Unable to stop the shaman, Stiles watched sadly as Peter went over to an unconscious Derek and woke him by stabbing him in the chest with his sharp talons. Allison screamed as his mother averted her eyes away from the gory sight. The Spirit Wolf yelled in pain as he woke up with his eyes glowing golden as he shifted into his second phase and began to sprout canine fangs.

Fear sprouted on his family's face upon seeing Derek's transformation; his father especially. Stiles stood helpless as streaks of blood poured of his lover's chest.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT THING?" Sheriff Argent shouted.

"I'm sorry, Dad," the young man apologized. "There's things I wish I told you…"

Peter smiled wickedly as he collected the blood samples of Derek in a goblet who growled in frustration. Turning toward the Argent family, he lifted the cup toward them. "I'm surprised Stiles that you kept the secret of our existence a secret from your love ones. You really are such an ungrateful child!" His eyes glowed red as he extended his own set of fangs and put them on display for the Argents.

"You're…you're not human!" Victoria commented. "What are you?"

"He's a werewolf," cried Allison. "Just like Scott and even Derek. Stiles saved me after I got bitten."

"Werewolf?" Peter laughed. "Foolish girl! We're more than that!" Shifting his attention to Stiles, he grabbed his arm and raked a claw drawing a line of blood. The teen cringed as small droplets filled the goblet. "Thank you for you generous donation. Now to being the first part of the ritual."

Tossing the goblet into the roaring fire, the flames rose higher than before as the cup melted. The shaman raised his arms chanting some ancient incantation as shadows began to flicker around him. A strange, icy breeze filled the cavern as the blaze extinguished before bizarrely reigniting the chamber.

"What is happening?" Danny asked. Panic could be heard in his voice.

"It's bad!" Stiles shouted. "Very, very bad!"

"KALONA! MIDNIGHT IS HERE!" Peter screeched. "BE RELEASED FROM YOUR PRISON AND TAKE ME AS YOUR VESSEL!"

_"Yes…I…am…free…"_

Echoes of a sinister voice filled the chamber. Shadows drifted from every corner of the cavern as a black mist floated from the darkness entwining around Peter Hale in tendrils. Surrounding him in a pool of miasma, the skin-walker became a cocoon of the Ravenmocker's evil before breaking itself away out of its shell to reveal and an even more hideous form. Once again the piercing migraine throbbed in Stiles's head before it went away quickly. Instantly, the brown haired teen knew that the outcome was not going to be good.

Blackened fur mixed with feathers displayed the enormous mass nearly taking up almost the entire space of the room. Long, sharp talons extended from its hands as thin, scaly feet exhibited claws at the bottom. Behind the creature, a long hairy, feathered plum represented its tail as red reptilian eyes peered from atop its face. However the most grotesque feature of the animal had been the long snout, shaped into a hooked beak as a row of jagged teeth appeared in its mouth.

The Argent women were the first to bear witness to the demon and screamed.

"Stiles! Get away from that thing!" Sheriff Argent shouted.

The teen broke into a run but found himself being snatched up by a clawed hand. Tossed into the air, the brown haired lad landed on to the ground hard.

A combination of Peter's masculine voice with that of a low guttural scream emanated from the monster. It laughed.

_"Ahhhh….my…perfect…human…sacrifice…."_

Stiles crawled back. "I'm not perfect! I swear! My nose is not symmetrical and one eye is bigger than the other!"

The creature cackled.

_"You'll…do…nicely…."_

_"Stiles! Remember the fox and wolf! The sun and moon must work together! Give Derek some of your blood to heal him!"_

The mysterious voice surrounded his head. The Native American deities were with him. Racing toward Derek, he pressed his wounded arm into the Spirit Wolf's mouth. The taste of the metallic liquid spilled in to his lips as the green eyed man drank a few drops.

"STILES! WATCH OUT!" His father screamed.

A sharp claw gripped his ankle yanking him back. He hit the ground hard as his felt body dragged across the dirt. Spinning his body around with his back facing the creature, Stiles looked at his family one last time with sorrow.

"I'm sorry…" he whimpered.

Razor sharp teeth pierced his shoulder blade causing him to scream in pain. Large droplets of crimson dripped from his wound as he felt his body become woozy from the monster biting him. The teen heard his family scream as the Ravenmocker monster released him; its mouth full of blood roared at the witnesses feeling the sense of power flow through him.

_"I…am…now…invincible…"_

Suddenly, small pieces of feathers and black hair fell from the creatures arms. Little by little the layers of covering began to shed falling to the ground in great big patches. The monster tossed its huge head watching in horror as its flesh start to deteriorate in front of its red eyes. Small pieces of its sharp talons began to become brittle breaking to little pieces as small black liquid oozed from its eyes and mouth.

_"What…is…happening…to me…"_

Still in a daze, Stiles kneeled on to the floor as he noticed Derek slowly his hands free from the silver daggers impaling him on the crucifix. Rapidly, he watched the Spirit Wolf's flesh heal.

The Ravenmocker eyed the brown haired teen in fury. Stomping toward him, it raised its large claw to strike.

_"You..did…this…You…drank…their…tea…Aconite…Wolfbane…Silver…White…Oak..Ash…poisoning…my system…You…are…not…a…perfect…human sacrifice…you…are…flawed…"_

Weakened, Stiles managed to stand up. He flashed a wicked smile. "You have to thank my brain cancer for that. Consider it my gift to you."

The beast roared as it brought down its sharp talon. Stiles flinched and shut his eyes. The sickening sound of brittle bones tearing and breaking vibrated through his eardrums as he heard a loud thud in front of him. Opening his eyes, he saw Derek's golden eyes and canine teeth grasping the Ravenmocker's back and riding him like a rodeo cowboy.

"You shall claim no victim tonight Kalona! No today! Not ever!" The aningan proclaimed. Digging his sharp claws into the monster's melting flesh, he rotated his body to position himself against the beast's chest. Then with careful precision, the Spirit Wolf struck. Digging a talon into the Ravenmocker's breast, he ripped out its beating heart and leaped away.

Everyone in the cavern observed in horror as the huge monster screamed in agony. More feathers and hair fell away as the claws, feet, and distorted beak began to melt away leaving nothing but a rotting corpse in front of them. Shadows and black mist escaped everywhere returning to the dark corners from whence they came as the final skeletal remains of the Ravenmocker disintegrated into a pile of ash and dust.

_"I…cannot…be…defeated…I…cannot…"_

The last remnants of the beast spilled on the ground in one dirt pile. It became evident at this point that both Peter Hale and the Ravenmocker were dead.

Still with the beating heart of Kalona in his hand, Derek squeezed the organ hard letting it crumble into the dust. Watching the dirt sift through his fingers, he slowly approached Stiles who fell to his knees.

"Derek…"

Stiles called out. Painful migraines, much heavier and agonizing, shot through his brain. Breathing heavily, he attempted to inhale but could get any oxygen. He listened carefully to his heart beating fast as large droplets of blood fell from his nostrils. Reaching out to the Spirit Wolf, he extended his arms but felt his body falling to the ground. Derek raced to him.

"STILES!"

It was too late. Stiles only saw darkness.

* * *

_The white oak ash tree grew taller than ever. Stiles walked over and noticed a mystical figure bathed in light, air, fire, earth, and water standing in front of it. Standing next to him were Wi and Hanwi who beckoned him forward. Stiles followed._

_Getting a closer look at the main figure transforming between elements, he became aware of who he was. O-let-te, the Coyote Man. The Great Creator. Stiles kneeled._

_"It's an honor, sir," said Stiles._

_"Please get up, Stiles Argent," said O-let-te. "You have proven yourself worthy as a warrior. Kalona has been defeated and once again imprisoned shall be imprisoned for many centuries to come. As your reward, I grant you back the human life you are expected to have."_

_Stiles's mouth dropped. "You mean no more brain cancer? I'm healed?"_

_"No more cancer, Stiles Argent," said the Coyote Man._

_Small footsteps padded next to the teenager as the hazel eyed lad drifted his focus to Derek Hale kneeling as well. Naked and virile, illicit thoughts stirred in his head of the Spirit Wolf which he quickly removed._

_"Derek Hale! Your role as the aningan has been appreciated!" The Coyote man announced._

_"Thank you, Great Creator," replied the Spirit Wolf._

_"Your reward is to preserve the safety and sanctuary of the Aeiwa people," said the Great Creator. "The knowledge of your tribe's existence to the outside world will cease to be. No one shall remember what transpired."_

_"Wait!" Stiles protested. "If you make everyone forget, then I won't remember Derek or the tribe at all."_

_"It is better that the world be kept ignorant," said the Coyote Man. "Knowledge of our existence will only make the lives of humans more difficult. Removing your memories will allow you to live on without placing you in harm's way."_

_"But I don't want to forget!" Stiles turned to Derek. "I want to remember! Derek, please. I love you!" His admittance brought tears to his eyes._

_Derek held the young man's face. "It's better this way. I'm immortal. I can't bear to watch you die while I live on. You're to live your life as normal away from the knowledge of the supernatural world. Healthy and happy. You and Danny were meant to be."_

_"No…please…Derek…" Stiles begged. The pain in the hazel teen's eyes affected the Spirit Wolf greatly but he knew what was best for the teenager. "I can't forget you!"_

_The aningan leaned in close to whisper his ear and he held him. "I love you, Stiles. I didn't believe that I could find it again after Kate died. You made that happened. Stiles, always remember this. The longer I live…that won't stop me from loving you."_

_"Derek…"_

_His mouth crushed his as the young man felt his body descending._

* * *

"Stiles! Wake up, buddy!"

Dr. Deaton stood in front of the teen as he lifted his head off the hospital bed. Surrounding him were his parents, sister, and Danny.

"Where am I?" He asked.

"You fell asleep during the CT scan," replied the physician. "I guess the results were too much for you. Great news! The cancer is gone. Your test show that the radiation treatment worked and the cancer cells have been eliminated. It's like you make a miraculous recovery."

Victoria and Sheriff Argent hugged their son tight.

"Isn't that great?" Victoria asked excitedly. "You're healed!"

"Yeah…" Stiles feigned a smile. "Where's Dr. Hale?" He realized that his memories of what happened were not removed by the deities.

"Who's Dr. Hale?" Dr. Deaton asked.

"He was helping with the treatments," Stiles replied.

"I guess memory loss was part of the symptoms of the cancer treatment," the physician diagnosed. "Stiles, I've been treating you all along. There's no Dr. Hale. In fact, there's no Dr. Hale that even works in this hospital."

Stiles frowned. "Whoops! My bad!"

Danny startled him with a kiss. Surprise by his lips on him, Stiles still not respond.

"Stiles? Something wrong?" Danny inquired disappointed. "You seem not yourself."

The hazel teen lied. "No. No. It's I'm just not myself today. I was wondering, Danny, if you could do me a favor?"

"Sure anything," offered the Hawaiian teen.

"Could you drive me some place?" He requested. "There's somewhere I need to check out."

* * *

Danny's truck parked right in front of the big lake where the hidden trail near the half-moon rock existed. Getting out of the vehicle, Stiles glanced around seeing the land undisturbed. No sign of any cabins, trailers, or housing structures existed here as a saddened brown haired teen folded his arms.

"It's a beautiful spot, Stiles," noted Danny. "Great for camping or fishing. What did you want come here?"

"I was curious," said Stiles. "Danny, is Mr. Harris still our history teacher?"

"Man, that brain tumor must have affected your memory cells," commented the Hawaiian teen. "There is no teacher named Mr. Harris. We have a substitute all year long who grades on a curve. Since you're the highest person who receives a B grade in the class, it become an A which trickles down to the rest of us struggling in the subject."

Stiles inhaled a breath sadly. "I guess I should really think about my future."

"Our future," corrected Danny.

Pulling the teen close, he connected his mouth to the hazel eyed lad influencing Stiles to submit to his touch. Stiles finally understood where his heart and his home should be.


	26. Chapter 26

EPILOGUE

_Beacon Hills_

_12 years later…_

_EXCERPT FROM APPLICATION FOR STATE DOCUMENT_

_**To Whom It May Concern,**_

_**This letter is a request for the State of California to recognize to recognize the Native American tribe known as the Aeiwa by the government of the United States. In accordance with the Native American Graves and Repatriation Act (NAGPRA), the government officials for the city of Beacon Hills would like to recognize that the area of following area surrounding the woods and mountains of Beacon Canyon be returned to the Aeiwa and be recognized as an independent society separated by the town residents.**_

_**In addition, the town officials would like to apologize for their ancestors claim to the land and wish to return all natural resources including the gold mines that were extracted by force by the Beacon Hills forefathers during the gold rush of the 1850's. All cultural items removed by the town shall be returned in order to preserve and maintain good relations between the residents and the tribe.**_

_**Beacon Hills would also like to work with the tribal leaders in order in full cooperation to strengthen both the town and reservation communication. We would like to ensure the safety and welfare of the tribe and submit this application for recognition. Please contact our department for any further inquiries.**_

_**Sincerely,**_

_**Sheriff Stiles Argent**_

_**Beacon Hills Law Enforcement/Town Ambassador**_

* * *

Sheriff Stiles drove his squad car down the half-moon rock where the rural road still existed. Rumors had surfaced that members of the Aeiwa tribe had returned and he wanted to see for himself. Pulling into the lake, he noticed the construction of cabins, trailers, and agricultural farm structures being built as he pulled into the main building.

Standing on the roof of the cabin, he remembered him. Strong virile muscle displayed in every perfect line of symmetry that connected to the six pack abdomen that showcased his shirtless body. Tight blue jeans hugged his hips and he placed his hands on his hips to see the police car approaching. Scratching the dark beard that he now sported, the green eyed Spirit Wolf watched curiously as the town sheriff got out of the car.

Derek's heart beat rapidly. The hazel eyed man had not changed in over twelve years. His innocent baby face still illuminated a vibrant glow as his brown hair grew longer and fashionable. Stiles appeared taller than when he last remembered him. The Spirit Wolf admired the young boy that now had become a man as the sheriff filled every pore of his uniform with athletic physical perfection. Seeing their tribal shaman Adrian Harris coming out of the cabin, the aningan climbed the ladder down to join them.

"Adrian Harris?" Stiles extended his hand. "I sent a letter to you about a meeting?"

The tribal shaman happily shook the law enforcement officer's hand. Except for few gray hairs and crow's feet, the former history teacher still looked the same.

"Oh yes," replied the shaman. "I'm very much interested in working with the town on tribal relations."

A bearded Derek approached as Adrian directed his focus to introduce the tall gentleman.

"Sheriff Argent," said the tribal leader. "This is our leader Derek Hale. Derek, this is Sheriff Stiles Argent."

"Please to meet you," Derek smiled taking his hand. Stiles was surprised by how personable the Spirit Wolf and become. Normally, he was all brooding.

"As I told your shaman," explained Stiles. "The town officials of Beacon Hills have applied for a government document that states for the protection and welfare of the Aeiwa tribe. They want to apologize for the bad history that your people have endured and are returning the surrounding land and gold mines to your people." He handed the document to Adrian. "In addition, they want to work with you on preserving the traditions and ensuring the ecological safety of the land. They'll even agree to let the reservation maintain their sense of privacy if you request it."

"How do you fit in to all this?" Derek asked.

"I've been appointed the tribal ambassador for the Aeiwa," informed Stiles. "I'll act as a liaison between the reservation and the town for anything you might need including law enforcement."

Adrian read through the document. "It's legit, Derek. They're serious. I think it's time that it's time to forgive and make a change."

"Again, it's all up to you," suggested the hazel eyed man.

"How do we know that we can trust you?" Derek wondered.

Stiles smiled. "A person that I deeply cared for once told me that the longer he lives…he would never stop loving me…"

Derek's eyebrows shot up. "You know? You remember?"

"O-let-te didn't take away my memories, Derek," he responded. "I still remember everything."

Romantic tension drew the two men together. Sensing it, Adrian awkwardly withdrew.

"I'll leave you two alone to discuss the formalities," the shaman exited into the cabin.

Derek stared at Stiles. It had been twelve years and he reached to touch his face. "What about Danny?"

Stiles looked down. "Danny and I…are still great friends. We broke up during college and instead decided we're better off as friends than lovers. He's now living in Hawaii where he coaches lacrosse in high school on the island of Maui. He and his partner are planning to open a surf shop soon."

"And you? Are you still seeing anyone?" Derek questioned.

"Single and ready to mingle," laughed the sheriff. "I was wondering if those hot springs are still open this time of year?"

"All year long," purred the Spirit Wolf.

Grabbing his arm, Derek pulled Stiles close crushing his mouth with his own. Electric heat surged through their bodies as their hands explored each other resolving the emotions that they felt in their hearts. It had been a long time and those same feelings still existed. All of it had finally became unlocked.

Pulling away, the sheriff released a giggle. "I like the beard on you." He stroked the dark hair. "It tickles."

"Would the gay community consider me a bear then?" Derek teased rubbing his nose against his.

"Well technically you do grow fur," replied Stiles. "I think we should make up a new label. Timberwolf?"

"Aningans, skin-walkers, and timberwolves! Oh my!" Derek exclaimed.

"Okay Dorothy, you're not in Kansas anymore!" Stiles clucked escaping his embrace.

"You want to see my special pot of gold somewhere over my rainbow?" Derek growled.

"Down boy!" Stiles laughed. "I have to be getting back to work. We'll have to work out something with the town with respecting the tribe's privacy especially with full moon nights." He opened the door to his car. "So should I pick you up at seven tonight?"

"Consider it a date," Derek called out. "I'm sure we'll be steaming up those hot springs tonight!"

"That's what I'm hoping for," giggled the sheriff.

* * *

Pulling the squad car out of the reservation, Stiles grinned happily with glee. Everything had fallen into place.

He finally was at peace.

Safe. Happy. Content.

Admiring the long road that headed into the main highway, he already knew what lay ahead.

A new beginning.

**THE END. **

* * *

_**NOTE TO READERS: Thank you for reading this fanfiction of Teen Wolf. Originally, I had written a more straightforward story but I scrapped it because I hated the direction I was going. This Sterek story came to me one day when I read a few on this site and I wanted to try something completely out of the box. I'm really happy with how this turned out that now I'm inspired to write a Stanny story incorporating the original elements of my first fanfic novel. Be on the lookout for that under the working title The Takamura Box.**_


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